Lessons of Troy
by SectorLutter
Summary: A young girl, Charis, tells of growing up in the palace and the lessons she learned from the royal family who lived there. If you like Hector, this is a good fic. CHAPTER 11 UP!R&R (please)!COMPLETE!
1. My Savior

Okay, so this is my first fanfic. Please be nice, but some criticism to help me improve my writing is appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of Troy. They all belong to Warner Bros.- I'm just using them.

Notes: Though this fic is based on the movie Troy and not Homer's Iliad, I might use some of his quotes.

It has been five years since Troy fell. Five years since Helen of Sparta became Helen of Troy, destroying the fragile peace between two mighty nations. It has been five years since the death of the great kings Priam and Agamemnon, and five years since the last breath of the warriors Achilles and Hector.

This is what the world remembers, what the world sees. But the people of Troy see the destruction differently. _I_ see it differently.

For me, it has been five years since I walked barefoot on the beaches of Troy, spraying Briseis with it's frigid waters. It has been five years since I sped over the plain on a horse with the wind in my face. For the past five years, I have heard no laughter from Paris, and have heard too much crying from Andromache.

It has been five years since Hector last smiled at me.

In Troy, my life began. I grew there, I felt there, I lived there, and I loved there. But most importantly, I learned there. Between the lessons of my tutors and the ramblings of the elders, I learned my most important lessons, from the most important instructors- the people around me. Hector. Paris. Andromache. Briseis. Priam. The taught me about life, love, and the world around me. I will never forget those lessons.

My first lesson came when I was five years of age, twelve years before the Trojan War.

I give my teachings to you willingly.

May the benefit you as they have benefited me. May you learn as I have, and may you never forget.

- - - - - -

It was a crowded day in the market, as usual, as I wove myself in and out of the people shopping, trading and buying. My hair hung in limply around my face and my dress was torn and tattered. I had been running for almost two days, trying to escape. I focused on the pattern of my feet falling, left, right, left, right. If my focus was at my feet, it was easier to ignore what would happen if I was caught. I was ahead now- I couldn't hear the heavy footsteps of the guards behind me- but I was still running like mad, just to be safe. My tears ran down my face, spilling into the cuts and bruises and stinging me. I couldn't get caught. I would be punished severely. Shaking my head, I turned my thoughts to my steps again.

Left, right, left, right, left, right, left-

And suddenly, I wasn't running anymore. In fact, my feet were no longer touching the ground at all. Two large hands had placed themselves gently under my arms at my waist, and lifted me in to the air. The hands spun me around as I struggled, and I found myself facing someone I had never met before.

He was tall, taller than my father was, taller than the guards who had been chasing me were. His hair was curly and brown and he was muscular under his deep blue tunic and matching cloak. And his eyes- I liked his eyes. They were warm and inviting, a deep dark brown. He wore a slight frown on his handsome face as he looked at me.

"Hector!"

I whipped my head around to see where the voice had come from, and I saw another man, mounted on a horse. He and my captor were obviously brothers, but this one was younger, and had an effortless sort of beauty that his elder sibling did not. He seemed bored.

"Hectorrr." He whined, turning toward his brother. "Leave the child and let's go. She's obviously playing some sort of game with her friends, just leave her be."

"Paris, look at her. Have you ever seen a playing child with an expression like that on her face? And look at the bruises, they're all over her! Something's not right."

Paris examined me, and I felt as if his eyes were drilling holes in my body. He nodded to Hector. Paris always trusted his brother's judgement.

Hector turned his attention to me again, smiling this time. Being at the receiving end of that smile was like basking in the rays of a thousand suns. Whether I was too frightened, or too starved of love to understand this gesture, I didn't smile back, just squirmed, trying to escape his grasp. My attempts were unsuccessful and most likely annoying. Hector didn't show any annoyance if he felt it, just smiled at me.

"What's your name, love?" He said, still smiling.

I stopped squirming and looked at him in surprise. No one who had ever spoken to me, which consisted of my brothers and my father, had ever referred to me as "love". In fact, no one who had ever spoken to me had ever referred to me with any kind of nicety at all. If I was not being called by my name, I was referred to as either "the girl" or "wench".

"Charis." My voice was barely a whisper, but he must have had keen hearing.

"Charis. Pretty name, meaning 'grace'. It fits you." He was still smiling at me, and I felt myself feebly smiling back.

"Thank you, my lord."

He laughed. "And what manners!"

I didn't giggle or react, just stared at him. No one had ever been nice to me before. I felt uncomfortable with his kindness, and didn't how to respond to it.

He was still smiling and looking at me. "Why are you running, Charis?"

I shook my head at him. "I can't tell you." I said, tearing up again.

He frowned a little, and I instantly felt sorry I was the one to banish his smile. "Why can't you tell me?"

"Because he'll hurt me." I whispered.

Hector's frown deepened. "Who will hurt you?"

"My father… he does bad things to me…" I said, my voice trailing off as I pointed to the bruises and cuts on my face and arms.

Hector frowned more. "Why does he hurt you?"

"Lots of things." I said, not looking at him.

"Like what?"

"Sometimes he gets mad at me. He doesn't like it when I leave spots on the floor when I clean. He doesn't like it when I don't clean his clothes right. He doesn't like it when I talk to him or fight." I whispered, tears falling down my face.

"Whoa." Paris whispered from his horse, staring at me. "She can't be more than five or six."

"Paris." Said Hector sternly, and he turned his attention back to me. "Where are you going, Charis?"

But that's when I heard the pounding of the footsteps I knew to be the guards. I began squirming with all my might, and Hector frowned again. Instead of releasing me, he spun me around and placed me on top of his horse. I began to cry. I was very small for my age, and even for a normal five-year-old it would have been an impressive feat to get down from his horse without killing oneself. Hector put a finger to my lips.

"You can't let him find me!" I cried, my voice shaking. "He'll hurt me!" Hector put a finger to my lips.

"Shhh." He said, putting his hand on my head. "Don't make a sound, and you'll be alright. I won't let them hurt you, I promise."

I hiccuped gratefully, but didn't believe him. What could he do to protect me from my father?

When the guards came into view, my father with them, I contemplated jumping off the horse and risking whatever injuries I would undoubtedly sustain, but Hector put his arm on the other side of the horse, preventing me from jumping. The guards stopped, and one tried to push Hector out of the way.

"That girl is property of the Lord Egan of Troy. Step aside ple-"

The guard stopped mid-sentence, turned beat red, and plunged himself into a low bow.

"My lord, Prince Hector. I'm sorry, I did not recognize you, please forgive me."

Hector nodded and the man stood.

"What's the problem here?" Hector said sternly. He sounded every bit the prince when he used that tone of voice.

"I can explain, My lord." My father stepped out from behind one of the guards, his voice oily, cane in hand. At the sight of that cane I involuntarily shuddered, and my hand flew to one of the bruises on my face. Hector followed my gaze to the cane and his jaw tightened. He was no fool.

"My daughter, Charis, she's a bit slow. She doesn't understand her place in my household, My lord, and she needs to be taught. This morning she got away while she was supposed to be doing chores, and well, you know how children can be, I'm sure." He smiled at me, but his smile did not have the effect Hector's did. In fact, it was quite the opposite- like the skies had closed and rain was drenching my spirits. I choked to hold back the tears.

Hector smiled at my father, but it was a false smile, nothing like the one he had given me. With a flick of his hand he dismissed the guards.

"Do you have many children, Lord Egan? "

My father grinned proudly. "Yes, My lord, many. I have 6, 5 boys and my darling daughter." He said, pointing to me and giving Hector another one of his fake smiles. "I'm proud of them all, even her. She makes a good servant, when she obeys, of course."

"Of course." Hector said, gritting his teeth. "But do you think you could spare her? As you must know, I was recently married, and my wife desires a new handmaiden to train to her liking. Your daughter seems a fine specimen, and I would be willing to pay nicely. No need to have her pack anything, either, I'll see she's fitted with the proper garments." He tossed a bag full of coins at my father, whose eyes grew as big as saucers to see such riches. He bowed eagerly.

"Of course, Lord Hector, she is yours to keep. It is a sacrifice, as I love her so. But anything for a Prince." He turned to me, and kissed my cheek. I flinched. "Goodbye, my dear Charis, may you live and prosper." He turned to Hector. "Take good care of her, My lord." And without another word, he disappeared into the crowded market place, leaving me in a state of disbelief.

" 'She doesn't understand her place in my household, My lord, and she needs to be taught.' " Paris snorted, mimicking my father as soon as he had left. "What a fat sack of wine. He sold his own daughter for a few coins!"

"Paris!" Hector scolded, mounting behind me. "Not in front of the child." With that we set off toward the castle. I did not know what awaited me, but I knew it was better than what I had come from.

"You're safe now." Hector whispered. "You'll like it at the castle, I promise. Your father can't harm you again."

I felt reassured. With the rhythm of the horse below me, Hector behind me, and my newfound relief, I couldn't keep myself awake. After all, I had been running for quite a while without stopping, and for the first time in my life, I felt safe. Falling into a gentle sleep, I realized something.

And that was the first lesson I learned through the royal family, taught to me by Hector: Never give up hope, for in your darkest moments, you could be mere steps away from salvation.


	2. A Promise Broken and a Promise Kept

Hiya! Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter. This one is a bit longer, hope you don't mind. I don't know how long this fic will actually be, chapter wise. This chapter and the next will be before the war, the rest will be during the war.

Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own them. If I did own Eric Bana… (sigh)… now there's something to think about.

Hector had always been a man of his word, and the promise he made me the day he saved my life was no exception. I **was** happy in the palace- happier than I had ever been as a slave in my father's household. Queen Hecuba insisted that I be raised as a member of the royal family rather than a servant- it had been many years since her own children had been young and she longed for a small child, a void I was more than happy to fill. Before long, I had almost completely forgotten the suffering my brothers and father had caused, and knew only the kindness of the royal family. King Priam and Queen Hecuba, Briseis, Paris, Andromache- I loved each and everyone. But above all others, I adored Hector. Just knowing he was in the palace at night was enough to rid me of any nightmares, and I never felt fear when he was close to me.

Five years passed without too many incidents. In the palace I was babied and fussed over constantly, and my friends (all children of servants in the royal household) often teased me as a result. This infuriated me to no end, and I would often do rash things because of it. Hector had always warned me that one day I would regret these actions. I knew he was right, but every time I was taunted my temper would get the best of me and I would completely ignore everything Hector had told me. Fortunately, most of my transgressions were small and went unnoticed or unpunished. Unfortunately, ever time one of my stunts was laughed off as child's play, it allowed me to continue misbehaving.

"If you don't teach her now, she'll never learn!" I had overheard Hector exclaim exasperatedly to the King. But Priam ignored his words, and my bold actions continued. And as Hector predicted, my lack of discipline would lead to a catastrophe. Not even Hector, however, could have predicted how much it would effect us both.

That day started out like any other. I woke, dressed, and ate breakfast as I usually did. On that particular day I was excited- my friends Galen, Nikkos, and I were planning on going to the shore. I knew how to swim, and had been many times before, but this was the first time Hector was allowing me to go with my friends alone. I felt so grown up and could barely contain my excitement all day as Briseis helped me gather my things. I would finally prove to Galen and Nikkos that I was no longer a baby.

I met them at the entrance to the women's quarters (Nikkos and Galen, being boys, could not enter) and we set off. We were half way through the passage that led out of the palace when I heard the footsteps behind me. I froze- I knew those steps anywhere. Hector.

"Charis!" he yelled, his steps speeding up. I stopped, my heart sinking at the smirks already developing on Galen and Nikkos' faces.

"Yes, Hector?" I said, as he jogged up besides me.

"It looks like there's a storm brewing." He explained, grimacing. "I know you were excited about going to the beach today, but I don't think it's a good idea- I don't know when the storm will hit or how bad it will be. Promise me you won't go."

I felt awful about missing my day at the beach, but knew that Hector was only looking out for my best interests. I nodded. "I promise, Hector."

"Good." He said, grinning. He kissed me on the cheek and went down the hallway in the opposite direction, heading toward the stables. His steps were still audible when Nikkos sunk to his knees and Galen stuck his chest out and puffed his cheeks, feigning importance.

"I won't do anything, Hector, Anything you say goes, Hector, just say the word and I'll do anything, Hector." Whined Nikkos in a high-pitched, girly voice, moving his arms up and down as if worshipping Galen.

"Don't have any fun, I'm too important to let you have fun. You know they call me tamer of horses, did you hear about how I can throw a spear farther than anyone in Troy? And did I mention the horses?" Galen said, trying to make his voice deep and pacing back and forth.

"Both of you, quiet." I said, seething. I could stand them making fun of me, but Hector could never deserve their taunts.

"Can't take a little fun, _Princess?_" said Nikkos, smirking evilly. "All we did was jest a little about you and Hector."

"Don't you _dare_ call him Hector." I hissed, my blood boiling. "You are not his friend nor are you a member of his family, so he should be addressed as _Prince_ Hector, fool."

Galen's grin widened on his face. "So what? He's not king, he's just a prince."

"HE WILL BE KING!" I yelled, angrier than I had ever been in my life. "He will be king and you will be his subject! Taunt me, tease me, and torture me all you want, but do not say a _word_ about Hector! He is a great man, and I would be surprised if either of you idiots managed to be half as great as him!"

Nikkos and Galen were both looking at me with their own horrible look that meant they were planning something. I was too angry to notice or care.

"Sorry, sorry, we meant nothing by it." Galen muttered, innocence written all over his face.

"Yeah, we didn't know it would insult you so. We should have known you were too, er, _young_" Nikkos placed a delicate stress on the word "to find such things funny."

At this point, I was too angry to realize that this had been their plan all along- to anger me to the point where it would be easy to fool me into doing something stupid.

"I am barely a year younger than you are, and you know it." I said, crossing my arms.

"Oh, but a year can make a difference." Said Nikkos wickedly. "I am old enough to not have to keep promises to anyone and I can go down to the beach by myself."

"As am I." Said Galen importantly. "And I do believe we will be going right now, won't we Nikkos?"

"Yes, I believe we will, Galen." Said Nikkos, smiling at Galen. The pair hooked arms and began to walk toward the entrance to the palace.

"I am just as mature as you and I'm going too!" I yelled, running up next to them.

Nikkos pretended to be shocked. "But what about your promise to the Prince?" he said.

"I'm going." I said firmly, trying to ignore the voice in my head that warned me Hector would kill me if he found out.

When we arrived at the beach, I could not help but notice the telltale signs of a storm on the horizon. The wind was picking up speed and force as it sped across the plain. The waves were darker than usual, and the normally calm, tranquil surface was choppy and chaotic. It was cold and the sky was beginning to darken as we set up our blankets and looked out on the waves, me still fuming about the argument in the palace.

"Nikkos! Look!" yelled Galen, diving into the water and pointing to a rock in the sea. Nikkos grinned and dived in with him and they swam together to the rock, which was so far out that their heads became nothing more than pinpricks in the distance. When they reached it, they each jumped of the rock, yelling and screaming, then swam back. By the time they both arrived on the shore, they were panting hard, and already scheming.

"Well, that was difficult." Rasped Galen between breaths. " It takes a strong swimmer to do that."

" I could do it easily." I scoffed. I was a good swimmer and did not fear the ocean.

"Oh, please. No girl could swim in _that._" Galen replied, pointing out to the turbulent sea.

"_I _could." I insisted.

"Yeah, right." Said Galen, eyes glinting. "You couldn't swim out there, not in a million years."

"Could so." I said, more insulted.

"Fine then." Nikkos said, joining in. I didn't notice the matching glint in his eyes. "Prove it."

"How?" I asked, taking the bait as I always did.

"Simple. Swim out there, jump off the rock and come back. Easy as 1-2-3, right?"

I swallowed hard. The water had become increasingly more violent as we spoke, and the sky was gray with rain clouds. But I would not be out done.

"Fine then, I will." I retorted. Without another word, I began wadding out into the water.

"Remember!" Nikkos called after me, grinning. "Swim out, jump off the rock, come back, and you win!"

"It's just a little swimming. How hard could it be?" I muttered to myself.

I had gotten to the rock in a half an hour's time, with the water becoming more violent each second, and was a quarter of the way back when the rain began to fall. This didn't worry me- at first it was a gentle rain, barely affecting the waters' surface. It even felt good to feel the little drops on my face as I swam.

It became apparent, however, that the gentle rain was only the beginning.

The rain began to fall a little harder when I was a third of the way back, pounding the surface of the water. It hurt a little, but the effect on my swimming was minimal. The waves were getting larger as I swam, and I tried to ignore how tired I was. It was a long swim out to where Nikkos and Galen had sent me, and though the rain wasn't hurting me, it wasn't helping me either.

I was halfway back to shore when the rain really started to fall. It started so suddenly, I didn't even notice it at first, but when the first torrent of rain collided with the water my head was forced under the water for a second. I emerged again, gasping for air, spitting out the water trapped in my mouth. It was becoming increasingly hard to hold my head above the water, the rain and violent current forcing me under.

Half an hour later I noticed I wasn't getting any closer to the shore.

The tide had become so strong it had become a struggle just to keep myself from moving any farther away from the shore. I was dead locked and fighting to keep my head above water when I looked up to shore and saw that neither Nikkos nor Galen was standing there. And that's when it hit me.

__

It was a trick.

It was probably the worst possible moment to realize such a thing, as my life was at stake and I needed all my strength just to tread water. The rain was pounding me and I was starting to float backwards, and I began to cry.

__

I'm only ten years old! I'm too young to die! I haven't even gotten a chance to properly live!

I had been in the water for almost two hours now. I was deathly cold, exhausted, and even further away from the shore then I had been an hour before. I knew I couldn't hold on much longer. Waves of regret washed over me.

__

I should have listened to Hector. He only wanted to make sure I was safe, and what do I do? I disregard his orders and break a promise to him. What kind of a sister am I?

My head slipped under water again, and this time it took me longer to fight my way up. I coughed and sputtered, my lungs already filling with water. I looked to the shore again, desperately wishing that I could find my way there, knowing that it was impossible. I could not even keep my head above the water anymore, and was slipping under every minute or so, each time less and less space available in my lungs for air. As I slipped under once more, I thought I saw a head in the water. When I came back up again, I looked toward the shore. No one was there.

__

I'm going to die. I thought miserably._ I'm going to die and Hector is never going to forgive me for breaking my promise. I'm going to the most horrible circles of Hades for this._

My vision was blurring as I tried to hold on to consciousness. It was becoming so hard- I was barely breathing and the storm was only getting stronger. I could have sworn I saw a head in the water. I must have been dreaming, delusional from lack of oxygen. I knew if I was pulled under again, I wouldn't make it back up. It wouldn't be long now.

A huge wave crashed over my head and I was yanked under, gasping for breath, finding only water to fill my lungs. My eyelids fluttered and I couldn't open them again. I felt my limbs go numb and I let go, no longer struggling.

__

I'm sorry Hector. I thought, wishing he could hear me. _Please forgive me._

Then everything went black.

_I'm dead._ _I'm dead. I'm dead and now I'm in Hades._ _I HAVE TO BE dead. How could I have lived? I'm not dead. Am I dead?_

Thoughts darted around my head as I stirred. I groaned. My body felt heavy and I hurt all over.

__

Pain. I thought, ecstatic._ The dead can't feel pain. I'm not dead._

I wrenched my eyes open. I was in the palace, in my room, under my covers. The sun was streaming through the window as it landed on my bed. How long had I been sleeping? I looked around the room. Everything was the same, except for the fact that a servant was sitting in the corner at a loom, weaving. I rubbed my eyes and blinked. Everything was still there. I wasn't dreaming. The servant girl turned to me, shocked, then rushed out of the room.

I watched her go, then yawned. The memory of my deadly swim flooded back to me.

_Oh, Zeus, what was I thinking?_ I thought, feeling wretched. _More importantly, how did I live?_

Suddenly the door burst open.

Hector was standing in the doorway, wearing his armor. He had obviously been pulled away from doing something with the army, and I regretted choosing such a time to wake up- Hector was intimidating enough when he was angry, and with a sword at his side and armor instead of a tunic covering him, he looked positively ferocious. He was grimacing, his eyes locked with mine, his face pale. We stared at each other in silence for a few minutes, not moving. I waited for him to speak.

" You broke your promise." His voice was steady, even, a deadly quiet. "You lied to my face."

"I'm sorry." I whispered, lowering my face, unable to look at him any longer.

"Sorry?" his voice was still that deadly quiet, betraying no emotion. Hector never had to raise his voice with anyone- that whisper was enough to send shivers down your spine. "Apologizes aren't good enough this time, Charis. I've let you go with apologizes for everything else, for the pranks and the jokes and the petty crimes. An apology will NOT do in this situation." He moved to the front of the bed so that he could see my face. "You came within a hair's length of death. You were almost killed! Do you not understand that?"

I bit my lip, holding back tears. "I know."

He looked at me again, his expression fearsome. "I don't think I've ever been this mad at you before!" He began to pace the room back and forth, running a hand through his hair. "I told you that there was a storm coming. I told you that it was dangerous to be in the water. You promised me that you wouldn't go to the ocean. And what happens? Not even a full two hours later Nikkos and Galen burst into the stables, soaking wet, yelling hysterically about how you went into the water and couldn't get back to the shore. You can't possibly know what it's like to hear that someone you love is dying. You can't possibly understand what went through my mind." Hector's voice had raised an increment in volume and his knuckles were white from making fists at his sides. This was the first time I had ever seen Hector lose his composure, and it scared me slightly.

"What were you thinking?" He said, anger in his voice. "Were you thinking at all?"

A few tears threatened to fall from my eyes and I squeezed them shut, trying to keep it from happening. "I don't know."

"And what if Nikkos and Galen hadn't reached me in time? What if the had been unable to find me? A minute more and you would have drowned!"

A tear slipped down my face and I bit my lip harder, shaking my head listlessly. I didn't know how to answer him.

"Or what if it had been a lightning storm? Did you think about that? If there had been lightning, you'd be dead right now. And then what? Is your life worth a dare, Charis? Because I thought it meant more to you than that."

Several more tears managed to fight their way out of my eyes. I was doing a horrible job at keeping them back. "It does."

"Well you haven't done a very good job at showing it, have you?" I had never heard Hector's voice that bitter, and it caused even more tears to find their way down my face.

"No." My voice was barely a whisper, almost inaudible.

Hector stopped pacing and looked at me, frowning. "I am not afraid of many things, Charis, but the prospect of losing someone I love is one of those things. You can not possibly imagine how afraid I was."

I looked at him, startled. I had always assumed that Hector- brave, strong, Hector, was fearless, and yet here he was, telling me that _I, _a ten-year-old girl, had scared him.

"I'm sorry." I said again, unsure of what to say.

He rubbed his head wearily. It seemed as though I had completely drained him.

"You will not leave the palace for a month, do you understand me? Not with anyone, including me, and certainly not by yourself. And anytime you want to swim, after that month is over, you will tell me at least five days before hand. And you will be accompanied by a guard or other supervision that I have approved- you won't be able to go alone with friends, not for a long time, anyway."

I nodded. The punishment was lenient- I deserved much worse and I knew it. Hector looked at me again, his hands shaking.

"I thought I was going to lose you for a while there." He said earnestly, his face softening.

I bowed my head, ashamed. "I'm sorry I scared you and I'm sorry I made you mad at me."

He laughed a little, and I jumped, surprised. "I can never stay mad at you for very long, it seems. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I might have to change my policy."

I shook my head. "I won't."

"Good. I have to go- I'm inspecting the army today. Get some rest, will you?" he kissed me on the head and made his way toward the door.

"Hector?" I called. He turned. "Thank you." I said.

"You're more than welcome." He said, smiling slightly. "Now go back to sleep."

I snuggled under the covers as he left, but his words kept ringing in my ears.

__

"I am not afraid of many things, Charis, but the prospect of losing someone I love is one of those things. You can not possibly imagine how afraid I was."

And it was then I learned my second lesson from Hector: A man may stand tall against a thousand mighty warriors, and brave the most harrowing passage over land or sea, but to strike true fear into his heart, you must threaten the ones he loves.


	3. Weakness

Sorry about the delay on this chapter- a pretty nasty mixture of writer's block and internet problems set in this weekend.

Disclaimer: Nope, nothing's mine.

Note: Just a warning- I kind of despise Helen and Achilles, so this is the first chapter where you see my opinions,er, manifesting themselves in my character. I don't know if there will actually be any dialogue from either- it's extremely unlikely Achilles will have a speaking role in this fic- so mostly you will hear/see the characters bad-mouthing them.

My accident with the storm had helped me realize many things that I needed to change in my life. I had taken what I had for granted, and I should have known better, especially with my history. I was no longer friends with Nikkos and Galen, having realized that they enjoyed getting me into trouble, and found new friends in the women's quarters. I learned to use a loom and heal wounds, as well as many other useful skills that I might need when I was older. Most of all, I never disobeyed Hector again- seeing him seething at me once was enough for a lifetime.

Things changed as I grew older. I was no longer the child I had been when I came to the palace, and had grown into a young woman instead. Astyanax was born and replaced me as the youngest in the household, but I was still loved. as much as things changed, things also remained the same. King Priam and Queen Hecuba were as kind as ever. Paris caused as much trouble as he did when he was younger, just in different ways. Andromache and Briseis were still the sweet women I had always known, even though Andromache was now a mother, and Briseis was now a priestess. Hector was still Hector- brave, smart, loyal, gentle, and kind Hector. Life, in my opinion, was perfect.

Perfection, however, is fleeting.

- - - - - -

When I was 17, after many years of war threatening Troy, a loose peace was declared between Sparta and Troy. The whole of Troy was joyous over this peace treaty- the King of Sparta, Menelaus, was brother to Agamemnon, King of Mycene, who was slowly devouring all of Greece. This meant that peace between Agamemnon and Troy could be expected. No one wanted to fight a war, and Priam wished to give Hector his kingdom peacefully. He was, after all, becoming quite old and Hector would become King after his death. In celebration of this newfound peace, Hector and Paris were to be sent as envoys to Menelaus, in order to take part in a feast in their honor. Paris was looking forward to it- a new country meant new women- but Hector was less than enthusiastic.

"He doesn't really want to leave." Andromache whispered to me as we worked on our weaving, side by side, one night. "He doesn't like traveling at all. And this time is especially bad, since he'll be missing Astyanax's first birthday. I suppose at times I wish he didn't have so many duties to perform."

I nodded. Hector was not only the leader of Troy's armies, but also its crown prince, meaning that he had more tasks to perform than anyone in the palace, even Priam.

"Priam said that he might be back in as little as three months." I said, hopefully. "That isn't as bad as last time- he was gone for almost a year when he went to quiet the rebellions at the border."

Andromache sighed. "You're right, of course. I should count my blessings- not only is he going to be gone less time than the last, he's also going to a peace court- not on the way to another war. I'm so sick of war, I'm glad we're finally making peace."

The day Paris and Hector were leaving for Sparta was sweltering. I almost envied them leaving, given the fact that they'd be on a boat, with cool winds rushing at their face, and I had not been able to swim since I'd been declared a maiden. While Hector said goodbye to Andromache and Astyanax, Paris pulled me over to the side, obviously smarting from lack of attention.

"Will you miss me?" He said, grinning mischievously.

"It depends," I said, grinning back.

"On what?"

"On how much trouble you cause." I said wickedly. "If you cause as much trouble there as you do here, I won't have much time to miss you- they'll ship you back without a moment's thought."

"Hey!" he said in mock offense. "I am the very essence of innocence. When have I ever caused trouble?"

I snorted. "Am I to think of only one occasion?"

"That's not funny." Paris muttered. "I'm a prince of Troy and should be respected. Hector is a prince of Troy, too, and no one ever makes fun of Hector."

"Hector hasn't done a thing wrong since he was five, your mother told me so." I pointed out.

"Yes, but he the last thing he did wrong was spook Father's second-in-command's horse at a parade… in front of the whole city. That's enough trouble to last Hector's entire life. Besides, I think that offense is much worse than a few…"- Paris searched for a phrase- "pleasure-seeking excursions."

I laughed. It was obvious why Paris was good with the ladies- his gift with words combined with his natural beauty made him absolutely charming.

"I like the euphemism, but I think it is an equally bad offense, especially when one of those 'pleasure-seeking excursions' finds you in bed with a married woman." I teased.

Paris was about to protest, but Hector strode over to us and we cut off our conversation. Hector loved his little brother, but any mention of his hobby with women would cause him to become sufficiently angry. Just having Hector mad at me once scared me into submission- I could not understand how Paris could stand having Hector angry with him almost every waking moment.

"Paris, we're about ready to sail. You'll have to board soon, so go find mother and father." Paris nodded and headed off to find the King and Queen to say goodbye.

"Charis." Hector said, smiling at me. "I'm going to be gone anywhere from three to six months, so stay out of trouble. I won't be able to stop you from drowning this time."

I rolled my eyes. "Hector! I was ten years old! Besides, I haven't been near the ocean in years."

He winked at me, and I realized he was just teasing.

"You better stay out of trouble, as well." I warned, teasing him back. "Andromache may be across the sea, but she'll know if you misbehave."

"I swear I'll try to abstain." He said in a mock serious tone. "But I can't make you any definite promises. After all, I am Paris' brother."

I laughed. "Watch him, will you? You know how he can be… it is a festival, and I'd hate for him to 'mistake' some poor nobleman's wife for a dancing girl."

Hector sighed. "I'll try, but somehow he always manages to get away from me."

"Hector!" cried Paris, jolting both of us. "We're boarding, come on."

" Goodbye, Hector." I said softly. "May the gods grant you a safe trip- I want you back in Troy in no more than six months, alright?"

"I'll try." He said, nodding. He kissed me on the head. "Watch after Andromache and Astyanax for me."

"I will." I promised. "And you watch after Paris for me."

He nodded. "I will." His second-in-command yelled for him, and he disappeared onto the ship. Paris started to follow him, but a nervous feeling had begun to develop in the pit of my stomach. "Paris, wait!" I called after him. He turned and ran over to me, a questioning look in his eyes. "_Please_ try and stay out of trouble-for me?"

He grinned."Only for you."

I smiled at him as he ran back to the ship, but I could not shake the feeling.

"They'll be fine, stop worrying." I scolded myself, watching as Hector and Paris set sail for Sparta.

- - - - - -

Four and a half months passed without any word from Hector and Paris. Priam assured me this meant that everything was according to plan, and a message would only be sent if something went wrong. I still, however, had been unable to shake the feeling in my gut, and everyday that they were gone was another day I spent in a state of nervous anxiety. I was unable to carry on a conversation and my weaving went to shambles, and I found myself wandering around the palace or going to the temple, praying to Apollo that Paris and Hector's journey home would be swift and without trouble.

A few days before the five-month mark, Andromache and I were sitting in Hector's quarters, talking.

"Charis!" Andromache laughed, watching as I managed to fumble yet another row on my loom. The weaving looked as if a two-year-old had done it. "I haven't seen you this nervous since you first came to the palace and had to meet Priam."

"I can't help it." I whined. "Honestly, I don't know why I'm so nervous- it's not like Hector and Paris haven't been on a thousand trips before."

Andromache frowned. "I hope the gods aren't trying to tell us something."

I sighed. I did not want to think about that. We sat in silence as Andromache completed her weaving and I stared out at the setting sun, wishing Hector and Paris were home.

- - - - - -

It was exactly one day before the six-month mark that the scouts first spotted Hector and Paris' boat on the horizon. I laughed out loud when Briseis rushed in to tell me- even though Hector had only promised to try and return home, he was a man of his word as usual. Briseis helped me dress and do my hair, scolding me several times for being unable to sit still. I couldn't help it-I had to see Hector and Paris, alive and well, with my own eyes before the horrible knot in my stomach would ease.

Together, Briseis and I headed to the entrance of the palace, where we knew Hector and Paris would be arriving as soon as the ship docked. It was customary for the King to welcome the princes back before anyone else, so Priam stood well ahead of everyone else. This meant that we would not be able to see Paris or Hector until they came up the steps to greet their father. Briseis and I stood together, she, the picture of calm, and I, a nervous wreck.

A roar came up from the population of Troy, who had been standing in the streets and on buildings waiting for a glimpse of their princes. My heart leapt into my throat- Hector and Paris must have just entered the city, and it couldn't be long until they came into view. Sure enough, the roaring grew to a deafening level as the people closest to the palace caught sight of Hector and Paris. But there was something else, too, laced among the cheers. I listened hard, trying to identify the sound- a sort of hum, like a buzzing, a low murmur rippling through the crowds.

_Is that whispering?_ I thought to myself, puzzled._ I don't think that has ever happened before. Whispering…_

Just then, Hector strode up the steps to his father. They embraced, and I felt my heart quiet a little. Hector was smiling- surely nothing could be wrong if Hector was smiling. I waited eagerly for Paris, hoping that he was in as good a state as Hector. As Hector moved to his father's side, I could finally see Paris moving up the stairs toward Priam- but he was not alone.

Walking up the steps arm and arm with Paris was a woman. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life. I groaned, my heart sinking like a rock. I had heard rumors of this woman… No beauty like that could possibly have a double. The way her blonde hair shone in the sun… her pure, pale skin that held no blemishes… her blue eyes. She must be…

"Father, I would like you to meet Helen." Paris said proudly, nudging his new infatuation towards Priam.

"Helen of Sparta?" Priam questioned lightly, his eyes darting back and forth from Helen to Paris.

"Helen of Troy." Paris responded firmly.

There were more words exchanged, but I could not hear them. Instead, a sort of ringing had filled my ears in their place. I watched in horror as Priam kissed both of Helen's cheeks.

"Oh, Paris." I moaned quietly to myself, pulling my eyes away from them. "You have burned us all."

- - - - - -

During the feast celebrating the Princes of Troy returning home, I slipped out the back of the dining hall, hoping no one would notice. I could not stand to be in their anymore, with Paris, with Priam, with Her. And all those people, celebrating! Did they not realize that Paris had unleashed war on Troy when he brought that wench back with him? I found my way to the garden and sat on a bench near a fountain, breathing deeply and trying to calm myself. I was so frustrated I wanted to scream. Settling for a sigh instead, I leaned my head back, enjoying the feeling of a cool mist from the fountain brushing my forehead as I gazed out at the stars.

"Charis." I looked up, startled. Hector was standing at the edge of the garden, half hidden in the shadows of the palace. "Charis, I can explain."

"Explain, what Hector?" I said, coolly. "Explain how that wench got on _your _ship without you noticing? Or how about why she isn't on a boat back to Menelaus? Or-" I said, laughing cruelly, "How about how it feels to break a promise for the first time in your life?"

Hector winced at my tone, and I almost regretted it. Almost. "He's in love." He replied weakly, looking at me with a pleading expression.

"Paris falls in love again every other day, Hector. By this time next week he'll forget all about Helen, queen of Sparta and fall in love with some servant girl or temple maid. You, of all people, should have remembered that."

Hector sighed deeply. "That's what I thought at first. But he was willing to die for her, Charis! Paris hasn't ever been willing to let even a little bit of harm come to him, especially not over a girl. This is the real thing."

I shook my head violently, anger boiling up inside me. "I doubt it. And if it is, so what?!?" I exclaimed. "I personally can not understand how you put the wants of one man over the needs of thousands, Hector. You are supposed to protect Troy, and you let war saunter into its very walls! What were you thinking?"

He shrugged meekly and laughed. "I remember asking you the very same question seven years ago. How does it feel to be the aggressor?"

"Don't change the subject, Hector." I snapped, and he winced again. "Why didn't you send her back to Menelaus?"

Hector looked up at the stars. "The same reason my father didn't send her back. I just want Paris to be happy, to have what Andromache and I or mother and father have. I'm sick of seeing him bed five or six women a week, and never being fulfilled. I'm sick of knowing that he sees what he's missing, but can never find it. This time…" he turned his head to look at me. "I think he's found it."

"So this is what it comes to." I said quietly, my voice pure venom. "Paris will have his love, and Troy will crumble as a price."

Hector ran his hand through his hair. "No one has ever breached our walls, and we have the finest army on this side of the world."

"Agamemnon's is finer, and Menelaus will have sought his help by now. And besides, they have Achilles."

"Achilles." Hector said slowly, sinking down on to the bench next to me. We sat in silence, letting the word sink in. It was, and still is in my opinion, the foulest thing I have ever heard in my life. Just saying that filthy murderer's name made me want to rush into the palace and scrub my mouth with the most coarse soap I could find.

I don't know how long we sat there, but by the time I rose the sky was beginning to lighten, and I knew Apollo was readying his chariot for the drive across the sky.

"We have been here too long- Andromache will be worried, by now." I murmured. Hector didn't say anything. His brow was furrowed and I knew he was deep in thought. "I'm going ."

I was already in the shadow of the palace when he called after me. "Charis, do you think I did the right thing?"

I smiled sadly. "No, Hector. But it was sweet of you to do it." He nodded, accepting this to mean I was no longer mad at him.

"Goodnight, Charis."

"Goodnight, Hector, sweet dreams." _This will be the last time any of our dreams are sweet, I fear. _

_ - - - - - - _

The very next morning, I awoke to the sounds of swords clashing and horses galloping and knew Hector had begun training the army. Dressing quickly, I went out to the wall to watch. When I was younger, watching Hector train had fascinated me- I loved the graceful way Hector moved when he fought and the sound of his sword clashing against another. Now, every time I heard the swords clash together I winced, and could not bring myself to watch Hector. I had never seen war on Troy's own plains- most battles were fought in other countries, with Hector and the army sailing out, and returning victorious months later. The thought of seeing Trojan blood spilt, seeing my countrymen dying, sickened me. I turned my attention instead to the people on the wall near me.

Paris and Priam were sitting under a pavilion shaded from the sun, watching in rapt attention, talking quietly to each other. Beside Paris was Helen, who looked scared and apprehensive. Scattered around the walls in various places were women and children of Troy- many boys who were too young yet to fight. Briseis, Hecuba, and Andromache were no where to be found- Briseis was most likely in the temple, and Hecuba and Andromache did not like to watch the fighting.

It became apparent very quickly why Helen was looking so apprehensive- many of the women who were on the walls were staring at her, throwing her dirty looks and muttering under their breath. "Serves her right." I said to myself, smiling slightly at her discomfort. "Any woman who runs away from her husband AND creates a war deserves all the dirty looks thrown at her, at the very least."

"I'm sorry, Charis, did you say something?" I turned quickly. Paris was standing behind me, fuming. He was not quite as good as Hector at hiding his emotions- after all; passion is what got him his reputation in the first place.

"Nothing that should interest you." I said icily.

"Oh, but anything about Helen _does_ interest me." He said quietly. "Because I love her, and she is a princess of Troy now."

I shook my head. "If Helen is a princess of Troy, then Hector is a priest and you are a warrior." I said wryly. I tried to turn and walk away, but Paris grabbed my wrist tightly and spun me around again.

"Don't you _ever_ talk about Helen like that again."

I wrenched my hand out of his grasp. "And don't you _ever _touch me again. In fact, don't ever speak to me again, either." I hissed.

"I wasn't planning on it." He spat back. "I can not love someone who hates the one I love most of all."

"You just met her!" I said, half laughing, half-yelling. "And now she's the love of your life? You really are as foolish as the rumors say."

Paris' face turned bright red in color. "You are not my sister, and I have no obligation to have your approval. Get out of my face."

"I'm already gone." I stormed away from him, still seething.

The war hadn't even started, but Helen had already destroyed something- something more precious than any building or monument in Troy, something I feared could never be rebuilt.

Winding my way through the maze of hallways toward my room, I thought about the conversations I had had with Hector and Paris, as well as the one I had witnessed between Paris and Priam. It was then I knew the lesson that I had learned- Love is a weakness. Whether it is love for a woman, man, brother, sister, father, mother, uncle, aunt, cousin, anyone- it is a weakness. And like any weakness, it can cause a disaster if given the chance.


	4. The Breath before the Plunge

Thanks very much for the wonderful reviews, and I'm trying to use the critiques as well, so thank you for those, too. They help alot. Special thanks to Poppy2- whether you meant to or not, you gave my muses a shot of caffeine and jump started this chapter.

Notes: First off, the name of this chapter comes from a line in The Lord of the Rings: The Return of The King, so if you think it seems familiar, that's why. Second, in this chapter, there will be two flashbacks, so both thought and flashbacks will be represented by _italics. _It sounds sort of confusing, I know, but the flashback is clearly marked and you'll be able to understand it.Finally, later in this chapter I mention Priam's age as being a little bit less than he's portrayed in the movie, but that's because life expectancy in those days wasn't very high, so a seventy-five or eighty year old Priam is a bit unrealistic, at least in my opinion.

- - - - - -

Briseis had once told me that the more you try to hold on to something, the faster it fades away. I have never understood that theory better than the weeks following Helen's arrival in Troy, before the Greeks boats could be seen on the horizon. I desperately tried to cling to the Troy I knew, the Troy I loved, to enjoy the last days of my childhood to the full extent. But I realized that it was too late- Troy had moved on without my consent or knowledge. Paris wasn't speaking to me. Briseis spent nearly all her time in the temple. Andromache was with Astyanax. Priam was constantly being badgered and bothered by his many advisors, priests and warriors, all of whom had a completely different opinion of the situation. Hector was training the army. And I? I was completely alone; attempting to fight the chilling realization that my childhood was over and nothing could ever be the same.

The voices were impossible to ignore now- drilling themselves into my head no matter how hard I tried to avoid them.

"-A thousand ships headed for Troy-"

"- All of Greece coming for her, who would've that that just one woman-"

"-They say he's better than Hector, even, the greatest warrior in the world-"

"-And part god, to boot! Thetis' son…-"

"-Coming to Troy-"

I could only find quiet and peace on the outer corners of the wall, overlooking Troy's spectacular hills. I waited until the training would end for the day, then sit and watch the sunset, sometimes staying until everyone of the stars was illuminated in a velvet blue sky. I would sit, gazing out on the hills, valleys and rivers, love swelling in my heart as the breeze blew my hair across my face, and relive some of my favorite memories…

- - - - - -

"You're going to have to learn, eventually." Said Hector, crossly, staring at me with his hands on hips.

I shook my head. I did not want or need to learn to ride a horse, and we both knew it.

Paris smirked at me from a top his own horse. "You're afraid."

I shook my head fiercely, glaring at him. "I'm not afraid. Its just-" I struggled to find an excuse as to why I couldn't ride. I remembered something Briseis had told me. It would be a stretch, but I could use it to my advantage. "Horses are like the gods- they're to be feared and respected. I don't think Apollo would like it very much if we rode HIM, do you?"

Paris laughed out loud and Hector tried to conceal a snort.

"What are you laughing at?" I demanded- to an eight-year-old, the logic I had just presented was not only sound, it was completely brilliant.

Hector moved closer to me and I flinched. It was a nasty habit that had developed from years of being beaten by my father.

"Horses are different than gods, Charis. You should respect a horse, but you should never fear it." He said gently. "The horse needs to trust you, and it can't trust you with fear in your heart. It makes him nervous- he'll throw you if you're afraid."

"That's very encouraging." I said, my voice a cross between sarcasm and terror.

Hector frowned slightly at me. He was barely six inches away from me now. "Don't you trust me?"

"They call him the tamer of horses, you know." Paris said playfully. "If you're going to learn from anyone, learning from him is probably the best way to go."

I looked from Hector to Paris and back again. "Alright." I submitted. "But do you promise you won't let me fall?"

Hector swiftly lifted me onto the waiting horse. "I promise." He went to the horse's head, patted it once, and I gasped in surprise as the horse started moving.

I shut my eyes fearfully as the horse's bulk moved beneath me. He was so big, and I so small- surely he would realize the power he had over me and throw me from his back.

"Charis, open your eyes!" Hector yelled to me. Cautiously, I opened one eye and looked around. Though I was moving, I was not alone. Hector, who must have mounted after helping me on, was on my right, Paris on my left. Locked between the two, I felt considerably safer. I opened both eyes and looked to Hector for instruction.

"That's it." He said. "Just use what I taught you off the horse." I obeyed and pressed my heels into the horse's sides, showing him that I was in control and urging him to move faster. I half expected the horse to laugh, or at least snort in my face, and was surprised to find he listened to me. We rode for about an hour, talking and laughing. Every now and then Hector would point out something I was doing wrong, or a better way to do something. When the conversation hit a lull, Paris turned to me.

"It's not that hard, is it?" Paris teased, grinning at me. I readjusted my grip on the reins and glared at him.

"Don't mock her, Paris. I seem to remember a certain brother of mine who wasn't always so easy with horses, himself." Joked Hector.

Paris rolled his eyes. "We can't all be Hector, Tamer of Horses, first prince of Troy."

"Luckily we can't all be Paris, Tamer of Women and second prince of Troy, either." I muttered under my breath, still focusing on the horse beneath me. Hector laughed out loud.

"WHAT?" said Paris, angrily. I shrugged my shoulders and tried to muster the most innocent look I possessed, while simultaneously attempting to control my horse and my laughter. To my surprise, Paris shifted his horse in front of mine and I nearly fell off. He cackled.

"PARIS!" Hector roared, furious as he dismounted and helped me from my horse. "You could have killed her!"

Paris surveyed me with a mixture of regret and shame. I looked at the ground, completely stunned and shaking all over. I had known he was a bit egotistical, but I never thought he would harm me over a little joke.

"I'm sorry, Charis." He said in a quiet voice. "I don't always… Sometimes I don't think… I wouldn't ever… I wouldn't ever deliberately…" His eyes sought mine as he tried to find the words to apologize. "That is to say… it's not like I don't care… because I do…"

- - - - -

I sighed as my memory faded- I couldn't remember the rest of that day, or the rest of my conversation with Paris. My eyes swept the hills of Troy, looking for something that would trigger another memory in me. I have always turned to memories when no one else could comfort me. Each memory is like a well-worn cloak – warm, comforting. I could slip into them and let my mind float away from the bitter pain of reality when it had become too much to bear.

I gazed out in the direction of where Hector's quarters were in the palace, thinking of Andromache. She had always been so kind to me. She showed me how to use a loom and taught me how to heal certain wounds. Without her, I would have been a very perplexed maiden, without any knowledge of my duties or my future duties, if I ever married.

She was the fifth person I met when coming to the castle, after Hector, Paris, Priam and Hecuba. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the cool stone of the wall, thinking about it…

- - - - - -

"HECTOR! Where have you been? I've been waiting for you! You were supposed to be back an-" The woman stopped mid-sentence. I knew, only from the fact that the man I was standing behind was Prince Hector, she must be Princess Andromache. Her dark hair and dark eyes- similar, yet different from that of the people of Troy- gave her a strange beauty that was hard to describe and often admired. She stared at me, eyes wide, and I moved farther behind Hector.

"Hector…" She said, her voice trailing off. "Who… who is she?"

Hector went towards her and pulled her to the side, speaking to her in a hushed voice and leaving me exposed in the hallway. I fidgeted nervously, watching them talk. Every now and then Andromache would look from Hector to me with an incredulous expression. I knew they must have been talking about me, though I couldn't hear what they were saying. At one point during the conversation, Andromache gasped loudly and looked toward me with a startled look in her eyes.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of talking (but could really only have been a few minutes) the two began walking back to me again. I instinctively gravitated toward Hector, placing my body behind his and hiding from his wife. He laughed.

"She's a bit shy."

Andromache smiled warmly at me. It seemed everyone had a warm smile in this house- Hector, Paris, the king and queen who I'd just been to visit, and now this woman.

"Hello." Her voice was warm, too, I noticed. "What's your name?"

I knew she already knew what my name was, but I decided to humor her. "Charis." I whispered.

"Well, Charis, it's nice to meet you. I'm Andromache." There was that smile again. Did she ever stop smiling? "How old are you Charis?"

"Five." I said, peeking my head out from behind Hector, curious as the where this line of questioning was going.

"Five?" She said, surprised. "My, you're already quite old, aren't you? Almost an adult!"

I giggled softly and moved a few inches towards the left, so she could see me. "No. I'm just a child."

She shook her head violently. "No, you're almost an adult, I'm sure! After all, I'm only four!"

"Are not." I accused, sliding a few more inches to the left. Only a short portion of my right side was still concealed by Hector.

She put her hands on her hips, pretending to be offended. "How old am I, then?"

I thought a minute, looking at her as if to decide. "At least ten." I finally said.

Hector laughed, and I jumped. I had forgotten he was there. "How old is she, then?" I asked him, looking up in his direction.

"A bit older than ten." he said, grinning.

I nodded and turned back to Andromache. "And how old is he?" I said, gesturing toward Hector. I liked this game.

She looked at him seriously. "Fifty, I think." She tilted her head to the side, thinking. "Maybe older."

I laughed. "Maybe one hundred!"

She laughed, too. "He must be a hundred!"

Hector threw his hands up in the air, as if admitting defeat. "Alright, I'm one hundred and one."

I shuffled over the last few inches, completely exposed and out of Hector's shadow.

"How old are you really?" I said, looking at Andromache.

"Eighteen." She said, bending down slightly so she was on my eye level. "And Hector is twenty-two."

My eyes grew wide. "That's old!"

She laughed again, and I decided I liked her. "Did you meet Priam? He's fifty-three!"

- - - - - -

I chuckled to myself at the memory. That was the first time I could remember- possibly the first time at all- that I had laughed. Even now, at 17, it was one of my most cherished memories.

The sun was setting, painting brilliant shades of pinks and purples in the sky. I lifted my head and looked at the sky. A glint of gold would play across my face every now and then, and I turned to see what it was. The Statue of Apollo outside the temple was giving off a glare, an effect of the sun hitting its golden surface. Briseis was probably there right now- she had been praying or helping in services at the temple almost non-stop since Helen's arrival.

_Typical Briseis. _I thought wryly. _The Gods can solve anything, in her mind. _I was slightly more skeptical about the higher beings. I did not doubt the Gods existence- but I did doubt their ability to take any mortal problem and blow it all away. Our difference in opinion resulted in hundreds of debates between Briseis and I. She would tell me countless stories of the Gods and their powers, attempting to sway my view, and would become exasperated on discovering it had not budged an inch. _You ought to respect the Gods more, Charis. _She had angrily yelled at me during one conversation. _I cannot save you from Apollo's wrath if you evoke it, no matter how much I love you._

I shook my head. _Have I evoked it, Briseis? _I wondered, staring out at Troy again, taking in its calm beauty. _Have I forced Apollo to punish me? _The thought that the impending war could have been caused by my own doing made me nauseous. _Did I do something so horrible that I deserved this- Troy deserved this? My home… Is this the last time I will see it so peaceful, so calm?_

I knew, somewhere deep inside me, the answer, but did not have the heart to voice it out loud. I looked out at Troy again, the sky a pale blue as light faded, the hills half bathed in shadow and wind whipping across the plain. Shutting my eyes, I locked the image in my mind, willing myself to never forget it, no matter how longed I lived.

I had thought Troy would last for my entire life, forever even. That night I knew.

Nothing can last forever- not even a city with mighty walls, a noble King, and the tamer of horses to protect it.


	5. Hector's Gift

Here is chapter 5, for your enjoyment. Thanks to everyone who left the lovely reviews- I really appreciate it!

(P.S. to Poppy2- the first of three stable scenes is in this chapter. I had been halfway through with writing when I saw your review, so I was glad I could grant your wish!)

The next day, I woke before the sun had made its way across the sky, before any other member of the household, save a few servants, had risen from their slumber. I moaned softly to myself. Usually I slept until Apollo's chariot had warmed the sky entirely, and it was unlike me to rise at such an early hour. I rolled over, attempting to sleep again. My failure to do so annoyed me, and I threw all my sheets to the floor, grumbling.

My bad mood was evident as I made my way to the wall, and the majority of the people I passed steered clear. The few brave souls that did attempt to speak to me instantly regretted it, because the look on my face was enough to send one to the underworld.

It didn't take me long to get to the wall. My feet knew the path well after the many trips I had taken there in the past few weeks. Climbing up the stone steps, I wondered what had made me awaken at such an early hour. I gazed out on Troy, taking it in, loving the cool breeze that played across my face and the reddish glow of the sunrise.

I sighed, planting my hands on the wall and leaning forward to look out at the country. I could hear the stirrings of the city behind me- the shuffle of the soldiers in the armory, the stable hands in the stable, the citizens in their houses. Troy in the morning and Troy at night were equally beautiful, I decided.

I gazed out on the horizon, scanning the beach and the sea, straining my ears to try and hear the distant lull of the ocean. It seemed more violent this morning than it usually was. Why? I squinted, trying to push my vision further.

Suddenly, the cool breeze was a merciless wind, whipping at my face, and the reddish glow seemed horrible and sharp, like a hue of blood settling over the plain.

My heart began to pound faster in my chest, making it difficult to breathe, and I struggled to say the word that had been forming on my lips only a moment before.

The scout who stood on the wall behind me, apparently, did not have the same problem with his vocal chords.

"SHIPS!" he yelled, raising the alarm.

- - - - - -

It only took that one word to send pandemonium through the streets of the city.

Women and children who had just minutes before left their homes were scurrying back inside them. Men were rushing to the armory. The carts and animals of merchants and farmhands rushed back into the gates to a variety of stables, sheds and homes. The screams and loud noise of a genuine panic instantly replaced the quiet serenity of morning.

I turned back in the direction of the shoreline, watching in horror as the ships slowly crept closer to the beaches of Troy. One ship, a ship with a black sail, seemed to be moving faster than the rest.

I had thought that the rumors of one thousand ships had been just that- a rumor, a piece of filthy gossip passed around among housewives and small children. Now, with the Greeks approaching, I could see that the rumor was true. There seemed to be no end to this swarm of ships, led swiftly by its black sailed forerunner, and they looked as if they filled the entire ocean with their masses, slowly tumbling over the line of vision in a never-ending waterfall. I shuddered but could not seem to tear my eyes away from the sight, as the mass chaos behind me seemed to grow louder.

I heard a clanking of armor and before I could react, was swiftly grabbed from behind. I struggled for a second as Hector spun me around.

"Charis, go back inside the palace and stay there with Andromache." He said firmly. His armor was already on. In one hand he held his helmet, and the other was tightly grasped around the upper part of my left arm.

"But-" I stuttered.

"Charis, do as I say, _now._" Hector commanded, pushing me forcefully in the direction of the palace. I nodded, and walked toward the palace, looking back just once to see him disappear in the direction of the armory.

- - - - - -

In Hector's quarters, Andromache and I sat in tense silence, waiting for news of the battle. Occasionally Astyanax would coo in his sleep from where he was napping in the cradle, making the only sound in the room for over two hours.

"It's just the first day." I said, no longer able to stand the silence. "He'll be fine, I'm sure."

Andromache nodded. "After all," she reasoned, her voice shaking slightly. "It's only the beach. No one has ever been able-" she stopped short at the look on my face. "What, Charis?"

My chest had become a block of ice, completely numb in my blind panic.

"The beach." I groaned, horrified. "The beach is where the temple is… and when the ships came, it was just past dawn… that means the morning rituals were still being performed!"

Andromache's eyes widened as she realized what I was saying. "Briseis."

She whispered.

At that precise moment, Astyanax woke from his nap and burst into tears.

- - - - - -

It was late in the afternoon when Hector finally returned from battle. It wouldn't have been proper for me to be in his quarters when he arrived, so I was escorted out shortly before he came. Secretly, I was glad- when Hector came back he would still be in his armor, which would be covered in blood. I never liked to think about what Hector was required to do as leader of the army- to me he was, and always would be, a good man who loved his country and his family- and I couldn't bear to think of him on the battlefield, murdering others. Luckily, because of his nature, it was easy to pretend Hector did not kill; but I'm sure if I had ever seen him coated in another man's blood it would have been infinitely harder.

I was half way to my own room when I realized that Briseis' room was in the same direction. I gulped painfully. I couldn't go there- I didn't know what had happened to her. I couldn't just pass by her room, the place where she slept, where she had told me story after story, the place in the household that was most hers. I didn't know what had become of her, and in truth, I was afraid. Afraid of the answer, afraid of the outcome of the morning's battle.

_I have to speak to Hector. _I thought miserably. _Hector will know- Hector always knows._

I knew that Hector would probably be in a conference with the Priam and all of his advisors about today's battle and how they should approach tomorrow's. It could be hours before they were finished. And then there was the problem of actually catching Hector to speak to him. How would I find him? He could be anywhere in the palace, for all I knew.

And then it hit me- there was only one place Hector went when he was nervous, or confused, or just had time on his hands.

I turned and ran down the hallway in the opposite direction.

- - - - - -

The stable was cool and quiet, the sounds of horses neighing softly and pawing the ground filling the sweet night air. I marveled at how it could stay so wonderfully peaceful on a day such as this. For the first time, I fully appreciated why Hector loved this place so much- the calm was positively refreshing. I walked in slowly, as to not startle to horses. Smiling, I approached my own horses' stall. Hector had given her to me for my eleventh birthday, which had been slightly after my incident in the ocean. He had jokingly named her Vilmaris, which meant "protector from the sea", and told me that Poseidon himself wouldn't harm me if I owned a horse with such a name. Vilmaris' stall was close to Hector's horse, Kyros, so it was a good spot to watch and wait.

I turned to Vilmaris- it had been a long time since I had visited her, and I instantly felt sorry for it- she seemed to have genuinely missed me. Her nose reached eagerly for my outstretched hand, and I focused my attention on her, slowly stroking her muzzle and letting my mind wander. I realized I still had no idea of the outcome of the battle- I had been too worried about Briseis to ask anyone on my way to the stable. Now I was even more worried- Briseis' future was important, but there would not be a future for any of us if Troy were sacked.

I shook my head, and something caught the corner of my head. Turning, I was surprised to see Hector standing at the end of the stable, brushing Kyros. He noticed me looking at him and smiled slightly.

" You looked so deep in thought, I didn't want to disturb you."

" I was waiting for you." I said, shrugging. "I knew once you'd met with your father and his advisors you'd come straight here. I needed to talk… to see what happened…"

He turned his attention back to the horse, brushing gently, and I walked closer, situating myself on a bale of hay. We sat in silence for a few minutes, the sound of his slow, even brushes filling the space between us.

"Did you lose?" I said softly, finally working up the courage to ask.

He sighed. "Yes."

I had known it from the silence, but to hear it out loud was cementing it, making it real and final. It scared me- Hector was the leader of the army, the hope of all of Troy, the best. He was never supposed to lose. That was supposed to happen to the other country.

"I was the only one who came back." He said, explaining further. "Everyone else was killed."

I tried to suppress the shiver that was creeping up my spine. It had only been a small company of Trojans that had been sent to the beach, the Apollonian guard, since the army was still gathering, but the fact that Hector had been the only one left scared me more than I could express. I knew by the way he said it he could have very easily been one of the dead.

"How-?" I said, my voice quivering. "What-?"

"Achilles and the Myrmidons." There it was again- that dreadful name that made my whole body shake as if I had just plunged into freezing water. For the first time since the beginning of our conversation, Hector looked up at me. "He-" he said incredulously- "he threw a spear right at Tecton. It must have covered ninety yards at least- a hundred even. It-" Hector's hand moved to his chest with a look of pure disbelieve- "It hit him square in the heart."

"That's not possible." I said, tensely.

Hector turned his face back to the horse, beginning to brush him again. "I saw it with my own eyes."

I brought my knees to my chest, my eyes beginning to swim with tears. "I-if they took the beach that e-easily…" I whispered. "What will h-happen to T-troy?"

" Charis…" he looked up again, this time his face determined. "As long as I live, I will not let this country fall."

I nodded. I only realize now how open-ended that statement was, how much it left to be desired. At the moment, I stayed contently oblivious to the warning his promise held.

"How bad is he?" I asked Hector. "Achilles, I mean."

"He fights only for glory, and nothing else." He said in a quiet voice. " He and his men are absolutely vicious. He desecrated the temple of Apollo, and his men killed the priests."

I gasped at his words, and the temple triggered my memory. "Hector!" I said, my voice becoming frantic. "Briseis- did you see Briseis?"

He locked gazes with me, his eyes hardened. "You mean she wasn't in the palace this morning?"

"No!" I said, panicking. "She's been doing the morning rituals every day since Helen arrived!"

He paled instantly, his jaw setting. "I didn't see her in the temple."

Tears were pooling in my eyes again, and my voice was slowly climbing in volume.

"You mean they took her!?" I exclaimed, my head spinning.

" I don't know, Charis." He said in a small voice. " I don't know."

I screamed, a combination of anger, sadness, and frustration escaping my lips. "It's all Helen's fault! If she had never come to Troy, none of this would have happened! That stupid, depraved, horrendous, careless, awful-"

Hector strode over to me, grabbing me by the shoulders. "Charis!" he said, shaking me slightly. "Charis, look at me!" I stopped screaming and did as I was told, though my anger was still evident in my eyes as I looked at him. "You can not blame her!"

"Not you too, Hector!" I moaned loudly. "Don't you realize what she's done to us?"

"You don't understand Charis." He said, holding my gaze. "Yes, she and Paris made a huge mistake in having her come here. But Helen can not be blamed for this. You are- and have been for the last 12 years- surrounded by people who love you and care for you. It is obvious from your position that they made a mistake. But Helen- Helen has spent all her life completely deprived of love. Her father didn't love her, and neither did her husband. I doubt you can even remember what it was like in your father's household-"

"I can." I said softly, my voice less defiant.

"Well then, do you remember what you would have done to leave- to escape?"

"Anything." I murmured.

"Exactly- you would have done anything. Helen was given an opportunity to escape and, for the first time in her life, be happy. You got that chance, too, and you took it- why shouldn't she be able to?"

I didn't answer him, just shrugged. I was still unconvinced- after all, my escape from my father's was not about to start a war- but I thought it was sweet of Hector to try and defend her.

Even if she was adulterous scum.

Hector went back to Kyros, changing the subject.

"Are you and Paris still not speaking?"

I sighed. "No, we're not."

" You should forgive him, you know. I did."

I smiled sadly. "I still don't think I'm ready."

He nodded, and the room drifted to silence again. I turned my thoughts to how Hector had spoken of Helen, still confused.

__

How does he do that? I thought. _How can he be so sympathetic to her? _I did not understand how Hector can feel for another the way he did, how he could put his anger aside and pity someone like Helen. But I was aware of how it changed him, what it did for him.

This is what made Hector a great leader. It was not ability to throw a spear, nor his talent with horses. His looks and charm were obviously not of much help, either. Even his intelligence was only a small factor.

The reason was simple. Hector could feel the pain of others in a way most could not, could understand his subjects in a way Agamemnon or Menelaus would never be able to comprehend.

This was why Troy, Hector's home, stood so tall, why it was so powerful, why it was worth fighting for, even dying for. This is why Greece, country of Agamemnon and Menelaus, was barely united and so low on morale.

Cruelty can rule a country, but compassion can unite it.


	6. A Lesson in Love, Part 1

Hi! Thanks again to all those who wrote me my lovely reviews! Please keep writing them, they make my day! J

Notes: This chapter will be presented in two different parts that will come up as two separate chapters on the menu thing. Part two should be in some time in the next two days, but it doesn't make sense with this part, so that's why I separated them. So sorry if anyone is upset with the shortness of the chapter, I promise part two is on its way!

(P.S. to Poppy2 ((third note in a row!)) Helen will be speaking to Charis in this chapter, and its similar to what you had in mind. READ ON!)

- - - - - -

The morning after Hector and I had spoken in the stables, I found myself waking early again, this time after having almost no sleep the night before. Every time I managed to drift to sleep, I kept having nightmares, haunted by ghostly visions of Briseis, Paris and Helen. I could never remember what occurred, exactly, in these dreams, but the pained faces lingered in my mind long after I was startled awake by them. Dressing quickly, I made my way to the wall again, still thinking of the strange dreams that had filled my mind all night.

I had forgotten that I had been walking until I reached the wall. In fact, my thoughts had occupied me so well I was not watching where I was going at all, and managed to run headfirst into something. _Someone, _to be precise.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, dusting myself off. "I know my way to the wall so well, I don't even have to look anymore, and usually no one's up here, anyway, at least not this early." I reached down to help the person up, and nearly dropped her hand when I realized who it was.

"Oh, no, I'm the one who should be sorry." Helen said, smiling slightly. "I see you come up here all the time, Paris told me it's where you like to go to think. So I know I'm intruding, but everyone says the view is so spectacular from here, I just had to see it myself."

"Uh, yes." I said dumbly. It was impossibly hard to keep my composure, considering that the woman standing before me was the same one who had filled me with rage and awful dreams that had kept me up for the majority of the night. _And there's no one up here to hear you scream at her._ I pointed out to myself, biting my lip. _You have to leave now before you can't control yourself anymore. Even if no one is up here to hear you scream, she'll tell Paris and that will make him even angrier. Besides, Hector will find out. He always does._

I knew I couldn't stay there any longer, so I made to leave. "Um, well," I said. "I guess I'll be going now."

"No, wait." She said, grabbing my arm. My lip was screaming with pain under the extreme pressure it was enduring from my teeth. "I need to talk to you."

"About what?" I said, slightly surprised, blood dripping down my wounded lip. I highly doubted I wanted to hear anything she had to say, but I was shocked she even _had_ anything to say.

"I love him." She whispered, staring at me with a strange look in her eyes. "I love him more than anything in the world. I'm sorry that this war happened, but I can't take it back, no matter how much I wish I could, and believe me, I do. But, I love him and I would never do anything to hurt him, not as long as I lived."

I stared back at her, dumbfounded. She released my arm. "I just thought you needed to hear that." She said, turning to leave. I watched her go down the steps, my head starting to hurt again.

Realization hit me hard as I watched her go, remembering the look in her eyes.

_By the Gods, she loves him._ I thought, mystified. It had never occurred to me that she could have thoughts and feelings, that she had an opinion and a voice as well. To me, she was simply the enemy, the wrong doer, the person that could be blamed. Was it like this with the Greeks, too? Did some Greek on our shore think of _Hector_ as the monster and _Achilles_ as the savior?

_It would be easier, _I reasoned,_ If there were only one side to an argument._

And I sighed, because now I no longer understood where the blame lay with this war, if Helen could not be the cause and the Greeks were people, too.


	7. A Lesson in Love, Part 2

I am very, VERY sorry about the delay in this chapter. It took longer than anticipated, and I truly apologize for taking so long. Thank you for being patient and thank you for all the kind reviews I received!

Notes: I have officially mapped out the last few chapters of this story. There will be four more, including this one. Please note this is not an AU fic, and Hector WILL be dying at the end of it. I know it's sad, but it must be done. Also, though I am aware that simply scripts has a copy of "Troy" to read, its being stubborn and not working on my computer, so some scenes may be a little off.

- - - - - -

I stood on the wall for hours, contemplating how exactly I would go about apologizing to Paris. I didn't want to, knowing my pride would be sufficiently wounded when I admitted I was wrong, but I knew that things between Paris and I would only get worse the longer I let them fester.

_It can wait until tonight. _I reasoned. _I don't have to do it right this moment._

As the sun dawned and the morning truly began, people started to filter out on to the wall, eager to watch the battle unfold on the plains below. When Andromache came up to the section of the wall where the royal family sat, she strode over to me, obvious worry written on her face.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" she said in an anxious voice, scanning the developing army below with her eyes. Hector wasn't out with the troops yet.

"Of course he'll be fine, Andromache, he's _Hector._ He's the best warrior there is." I said, trying to comfort her.

"Hector?" She said, looking at me with a bewildered expression. "I'm worried about him, of course, but he's not the one fighting today. I was talking about Paris."

"Paris?" I said, half laughing. "Paris doesn't fight! Why would you be worried about him?" She was silent for a second, then realization dawned on her face.

"Oh." Said Andromache quietly, looking at me with a sympathetic expression. "No one told you."

"Told me what?" I said, a dull panic beginning to build. _What in the name of Apollo is she talking about?_

"Paris is challenging Menelaus to a duel, Charis." She said.

Her tone was gentle, but I knew what she meant- any duel, at least in this war, was a duel to the death. I shook my head, refusing to believe her. "You're wrong, Andromache. He'd never do something like that- he's Paris!"

"He's going to fight Menelaus today, Charis. I know it's hard to believe but Hector told me himself."

"But…" I said, my voice adopting a pleading tone against my will, "I haven't apologized to him… he can't fight…why would he fight?"

"Honor." She said simply, staring out at the field. Hector and Paris had just appeared below us, and the Greek Army was started to come into view on the horizon.

"Why didn't Hector stop him then?" I said angrily. "He's supposed to protect him!"

"Hector thinks it's good that he's doing this. He said he needs to learn to defend his honor."

"Honor?" I said, frustrated. "They all fight for honor, all the time! Tell me, Andromache- what is so wonderful about honor that it's worth a life? Or-" I said, my voice escalating. "The lives of thousands of innocent people?"

"I don't know." She said, and I let it drop, knowing that she was feeling the same thing, knowing that if she could, if we both could, we would have killed any love for honor either of them-Hector or Paris-had. Because we both knew honor would be their downfall.

- - - - - -

We watched in silent horror as the troops gathered on the plain. I fought the urge to turn and run, knowing that this could possibly be the last time I saw Paris alive. In fact, it was very likely it would be. Ignoring the majority of the Greek Army, I focused instead on the two at the head- they must be Agamemnon and Menelaus. Watching the way they carried themselves and their physical appearances, I judged the one with the lighter hair to be Menelaus, since he was the younger.

He was large, obviously a lover of food and drink, and older than Paris by a good 15 years, at least. Most people would have gazed on him with relief for Paris, but I knew better. His stance was that of an experienced fighter and his eyes held the fiery expression of one who wanted to kill. It was different from the stony indifference Hector's eyes held when he fought- a way of separating himself from the task he was forced to complete. But Menelaus- Menelaus was looking forward to killing Paris, to spilling his blood all over the ground and not stopping until he was no longer recognizable. I shivered.

Behind me, Priam was talking in a low voice to Helen, who looked positively terrified. Hecuba was no where to be found. I didn't blame her- I would not want to watch my son be mutilated either, which seemed to be Paris' fate at the moment.

Andromache, who had taken a seat to the right of Priam, motioned for me to sit down next to her. I obeyed rather reluctantly, knowing she was on edge enough as it is and it wouldn't be a good idea to push her. My blood was racing and my heart was moving at the pace of one of Hector's horses- I could barely calm myself to the point of sitting.

Just as I sat, Hector and Paris moved towards the empty spot in the plain. Agamemnon, Menelaus and an older man that I did not know the name of did the same. My hands were shaking.

__

Charis, you are a fool. I thought sadly. _We're in the middle of a war and you choice to be angry with someone you love? Now you're going to lose him! How could you be so stupid?_

Words were exchanged between the two parties on the field. They were too far away to actually hear what they were saying, but by the smug look on Agamemnon's face I knew he was asking for the forfeit of Troy. I couldn't see Hector's face, because his back was to me, but it was obvious what his answer was. I smiled slightly at the snarl on Agamemnon's face. _Troy will never submit to a foreign ruler so long as Hector draws breath._

Then Paris came forward; Agamemnon was balking at his statement, refusing to let Paris fight. He wouldn't let this war be stopped, that I knew. It seemed Paris was the only one who didn't know, at this point. Menelaus grabbed Agamemnon's arm and pulled him aside, saying something quietly into his ear. Agamemnon nodded, and Menelaus strode back to Paris while Agamemnon and the older man rode back into the ranks. Hector said something quietly to Paris, mounted, and went back to the army.

I had never seen Paris in full armor before; in fact I had never seen him with the intention of actually fighting at all. It was unnerving- he looked so small, practically defenseless. I remembered how much Hector in armor had scared me when I was younger. They were so different, even if they were brothers. Hector would be able to take down Menelaus with his eyes closed- but Paris? I knew this would be a fight for Paris' life.

A clash of swords brought me back to my senses. I looked down. Paris was moving to avoid Menelaus sword, and Menelaus continued to hit him with all the force he could muster. Paris' shield was up, trying to keep the blows from hitting him.

"Paris, for the love of Apollo, _move!"_ I hissed under my breath. "Keep him moving! He's older than you, he'll tire easily!" I had witnessed enough of Hector's training programs, and had asked enough questions afterward, to know exactly what Paris was doing wrong. Behind Paris, Hector was muttering under his breath, as well.

I balled my hands into fists, watching the flurry of movement beneath the wall. With each new blow, Paris was weakening, in both strength and morale. His helmet and shield were lost as Menelaus continued to issue harsh blows to Paris. Blood dripped from a cut on his face where Menelaus had punched him. Menelaus, too, was bleeding, though his own cut was bleeding much less freely. He spit some of it on to the ground, grinning and motioning up to the sky, saying something to Paris.

I gasped as Menelaus cut a large gash into Paris' thigh, damaging the tender flesh there. Beside me, I could see Andromache slam her eyes shut as Paris fell to the ground, dropping his sword. Priam was muttering something from his position in the center of the group, and Helen was even paler than usual. And then Paris did the unthinkable.

He crawled.

"IS THIS WHAT YOU LEFT ME FOR?!?" laughed Menelaus, raising his voice so Helen could hear him. I winced. The embarrassment, the utter shame that Paris was bringing to his family, his lover, himself, was almost too much to bear.

Paris ignored his screams and continued crawling. Back to the Trojan lines, back to his own country, back to Hector- he was abandoning any honor he had ever had. Menelaus followed swiftly, his sword at his side.

They were close enough now so that I could hear what they were saying.

"Step aside, young Prince." Menelaus said angrily. Paris clutched to Hector's leg pathetically.

"It's over, Menelaus." Hector said firmly. "He's not going to fight anymore."

"We had an agreement!" Menelaus roared. "Step aside!" He raised his sword, and Helen gasped. But I knew better.

Helen had only been here for a month, and she could not understand. I had been here for 12 years, and I understood all too well. Hector loved so fiercely, so passionately, that he would never let any harm come to one he loved. Even when it was a rash, foolish decision, he would never let any harm come to his loved one. Even if it would cost more than it was worth, he would do it. Just as he had risked his life to save me from drowning, he would risk Troy for Paris, this I knew.

Unfortunately for Menelaus, he didn't seem to know that. In fact, the look on his face when Hector's sword found its way (rather effortlessly, I might add) into his stomach, was quite surprised indeed. The whole Greek army seemed to wear matching looks as he fell to the ground, dead. The plain was absolutely silent.

Agamemnon came to his senses first.

"He has violated the pact!" he roared. "ATTACK!"

And then, all hell broke lose.

The Greek army rushed toward the Trojan army, yelling and screaming. Hector and Paris ran back to the army, stopped as Paris ran back to get his sword, and continued back. The Greeks were getting closer, screeching war cries as they came. Hector rushed Paris back to the gates as the Trojan soldiers got ready. The gates opened. The archers got ready. The Greeks kept coming. Hector put on his helmet. The gates closed. Helen disappeared. The Greeks were still running- and then-

"Yes!" I whispered triumphantly. "They're too close! They're in range!" A volley of Trojan arrows rained on the Greek Army, causing numerous casualties, and my suspicions were confirmed. I watched in rapt attention as some of the Greek army managed to get through, Hector and his men swiftly cutting them down. Another volley. More men fell.

A large man hurtled toward Hector, knocking him off his horse. Blind panic gripped my heart and I saw Andromache turn pale. The man was huge, and was using a large spear-like object, throwing it at Hector with all his might. Hector dodged, then swung his sword at him. The man grabbed him around the waist and pulled his sword back, bringing his arms with him. Hector yelled in pain and I winced. Dropping his sword, Hector moved his arms to either side of the man and rammed his head into the man's, causing him to release Hector. I watched, horrified. Hector didn't have his sword, anymore, and the man was still equipped with his gigantic ax-like spear. Hector fell, and the man brought the ax down. Using another man's shield, Hector blocked, then rammed a spear into his gut, then his sword. Finally, the man fell. I breathed a sigh of relief. I could take no more of this fighting. I left the wall.

I ran all the way back to the palace, across the lower villages and all of the other things between the outer wall and the palace deep within Troy. I needed to see Paris. By now, I reasoned, Helen will have cleaned and stitched his wounds and I would be able to see him and apologize.

I was only half-right. Helen had cleaned and stitched his wounds, but when I reached the door to his quarters, she would not let me in.

"I need to apologize to him." I said quietly.

She smiled sadly at me. "He doesn't want to see you."

"What?" I said, shocked. "But … I need to apologize…"

Helen put her hand on my head and gave me the same sad smile. "Apparently, he was not as moved by my speech as you were." She turned back in to the quarters, leaving two men to guard the door and keep me out.

That was the second part of my lesson for the day- there aren't just two sides to every argument, but two sides to everything. Two sides to every conversation, two sides to every apology. And if Paris was not ready to hear my apology, then I could not apologize.

I turned and left, going back to see Andromache and find out what had happened in the battle.


	8. The Power of Words

All right, here's chapter 8, very, very early, as penance for my huge delay in getting chapter 7 up.

Notes: In this chapter is the second of the three stable scenes. Enjoy!

- - - - - -

When I arrived at Hector's quarters, Andromache was there alone and I knew Hector had already left.

"Stables?" I asked, settling myself into a chair on the balcony, Andromache cradling Astyanax to the right of me.

"Yes, but don't go there." She murmured, keeping her eyes on the baby. "He's quite angry with Priam, something about an attack at dawn that he doesn't approve of."

I nodded, reaching for a glass of wine and looking out on the night sky. "Probably worried about the morale of the Greeks. A direct attack to the camp might call Achilles back into battle, though I don't know the reason he didn't fight today. It was rather obvious the morale was quite low this morning, and since I didn't see a 'golden-haired Greek warrior with eyes like ice and the gift of death' I figured he must have refused to fight for some reason."

Andromache looked at me, her face a cross between amusement and shock. "You know, I think Hector said almost the exact same thing."

I smiled. "Priam used to call me 'Hector's shadow', and trust me, if you follow Hector around the palace long enough, you _will_ learn to pick up on things like that, whether you like it or not."

She turned her attention back to the baby, grinning broadly. "Sometimes, I swear, it's like you were born right here in the palace."

I closed my eyes, savoring the night air. "Paris refused to see me." I whispered.

"Did he really?" Andromache said. "You'd think he'd learn his lesson about appreciating things, especially after what happened today."

I shook my head, laughing slightly. "No, it'll take more than a near-death situation for Paris to appreciate something. He needs something really big."

Andromache laughed, too, and we spent the rest of the night in a comfortable silence, the beautiful feeling of victory hanging like a sweet perfume over all of Troy.

- - - - - -

Though I had spent all of the previous night in a happy celebration with Andromache, I didn't sleep well at all. I kept having a dream in which a boy with blonde hair was running from Hector, and I was trying to tell him to leave him alone. Then, Hector would turn, raise his sword, and come after me. At this point in the dream I would wake up, thrashing and gasping for air, and covered in a cold sweat.

The next morning was so foggy I could barely see in front of me at all. I went down to the wall, hoping to see a glimpse of the battle, but nothing was visible.

I decided to wander the streets of Troy, looking through all the villages and markets. I went unescorted, since any able bodied man would be on the beach, serving Hector, and I had been taught enough self defense by him to be able to defend myself from any man who was not fit enough to serve.

I wandered so far into Troy that it was almost sunset before I returned, and all the men had begun to filter back into the villages. I passed a group of soldiers, bloody and worn from battle, who were talking about what had occurred on the beach. I wasn't far from the palace and decided to stop and listen, too anxious to wait and speak to Hector about it.

"It's a shame." One man said, shaking his head. "Couldn't have been older than my own son, much too young to fight."

The other two nodded in agreement, matching solemn looks on their faces. "But the Lord Hector didn't know it." Said another, quietly. "The boy- Patroclus, was it? – was wearing Achilles' armor. Hector didn't know any better. Hell, I would've tried to kill him, too, if he was wearing that armor in front of me."

My heart froze. It couldn't be true. I had heard the stories about Achilles- he was cold, heartless, but he did love- only one though. Patroclus, his cousin. If Hector had killed Patroclus…

I turned and ran to the stables, praying to every god I knew that the soldiers had been wrong.

- - - - - -

Hector was in the stables, as I had suspected, calmly brushing Kyros. He looked up when I came in, and his eyes were full of sorrow. His eyes said everything, told everything. He had killed Patroclus. Achilles would be coming for him in the morning.

"No…" I whimpered, collapsing on to the floor. I felt like all the strength had been drained from my body. I could hear him walk over to me, but I didn't lift my head.

"Charis…" He crouched down and put one hand under my chin, lifting my eyes to meet his. "Charis, listen to me. If anything happens to me, Troy won't stand. You know it as well as I do." My eyes started to swim with tears. "If Troy falls, go find Andromache. She knows a way out. You have to find her. Do you hear me, Charis?"

"No…Hector…" I whispered. "Hector you don't have to fight him." I stared at him, begging him. "Get the archers to shoot him down!"

He shook his head. "I can't do that, Charis. You know that. If…" He shook his head. "If someone killed Paris, then I would want to avenge him. Achilles wants that privilege. I can't deny him that. It wouldn't be honorable."

There it was again- honor. Less than 24 hours ago, honor had almost cost Paris his life. Now it would cost Hector his.

"No…" I sobbed, the tears coming. "He'll kill you!"

Hector stood, turning away from me. "I'll have to take that chance."

"Don't you want to live, Hector?" I said, trying to stem my crying. I could barely see him through the blur of my tears.

"Of course I want to live! I want to see Paris have children of his own, I want to see you get married, I want to see Astyanax grow into a man. But I have to defend my honor." He said, his voice escalating and beginning to sound angry.

_I don't love your honor, I love you, Hector! _I thought desperately, but the words wouldn't come out of my mouth. I tried to think of something else to say, something to keep him from fighting Achilles. I stood.

"I won't ever forgive you if you fight him, Hector." I whispered.

"Then don't forgive me!" He roared, spinning to face me again. He was angrier than I had ever seen him. "Don't forgive me! See how much it matters- you're not even a real part of my family, anyway! I don't need you!"

I didn't answer, just stood there in a shocked silence, my mouth hanging partially open. This was something that Paris would say, Paris the passionate one, the one who didn't think. Hector always thought out exactly what he wanted to say, never said something without thought.

Hector paled instantly, realizing what he had just said. Neither of us said anything for a moment.

"Charis, I…" He said quietly, his tone pleading. "I didn't mean it… I swear… It wasn't true…"

But the damage was done. Words are like a special kind of virus, that once they are released into the air, they hang their suspended, and can never be retrieved again. You can say more and more to try to erase the damage of previous words, but you never can, really, because they'll always be there, hanging there, and you can choose to forget them or they can continue stinging you forever. That was the lesson I learned that night.

"Oh, But Prince Hector of Troy never lies." I said quietly, and ran out of the stables.

"Charis, wait!" he called, but for once, I didn't obey his commands.

And for once, he didn't chase after me.


	9. Hector's Last Lesson

Here's chapter 9, much earlier than anticipated. I wanted to get it out fast so that I could compose myself enough to write the last chapter.

Notes: this is the second to last chapter. We're almost at the end, folks. The last stable scene is in this chapter. This chapter is also sad, and contains more Achilles hate. This is mostly because of the fact that my character is a Trojan, and any Trojan, not including Briseis, in their right mind would hate him. Also, a reference to the Elysian fields is made in this chapter. For those of you who don't know, the Elysian field is the place in Greek Mythology where brave men/warriors went after death.

- - - - - -

After my argument with Hector, I did the only thing I could think of doing- I went to the wall. Hector and I had never fought before, and just the thought of it made me want to cry. I leaned against one of the tall posts, desperately trying to contain my tears, my knees pressed to my chest and my arms wrapped around them.

I spent the night at the wall, watching as morning came slowly, dreading each second the sky grew brighter. The quiet of the city was stifling- why didn't they understand? Didn't they see that Hector might die this day? Didn't they understand how lost Troy would be without him?

No. They never did. They never would, not until it was too late.

- - - - - -

The day dawned hot and stuffy, with not even the lightest of breezes. I had been up all night, but I had no desire to sleep. Even if I had wanted to sleep, I couldn't have. I stood, stretching, and surveyed the plains.

By mid-morning my heart was pounded so fast and so loudly I was sure it could be heard throughout all of Troy. Every second that passed was another Hector was safe, another Troy had a protector and a chance. Hope bubbled in my heart- would he leave Hector alone? Would he stay away from Troy?

My question was answered, but not by words, or gestures, or even a sign from the gods.

My question was answered in the form of pounding hooves and the appearance of a man with golden hair on the plain.

- - - - - -

The second Achilles appeared on the plain, everything seemed to move to fast. He was on the edge of the plain. Then he was halfway across. Then he was at the gates. He was out of the chariot. When did he do that? My mind was a jumble of nerves and confusion. I couldn't think straight. I took a deep breath.

He looked like a normal man. That is to say, nothing stood out about him, really. His hair was fair and his army glowed, but my mind didn't immediately scream that he was a monster. He didn't look like one.

He strode to the very edge of the wall, right near the gates.

"HECTOR!" he roared, his voice echoing over the plains. Wordlessly, Paris and Priam came to stand next to me. Both were pale and had bags under their eyes.

"HECTOR!" people were beginning to come to the wall to see the great Achilles and to cheer for their prince.

"HECTOR!" Hector was suddenly here, saying goodbye to his father, then Paris, then-

"I'm sorry, Hector, I'm so sorry." I whimpered, choking back tears.

"Shhh…" he whispered, just as he had done on the day we met. I smothered a sob that was caught in my throat. "Charis… you have to promise me you'll never lose the will to live, that you'll always live life to the fullest. It's too short." He kissed me on the head and fresh tears fell down my face. I nodded wordlessly.

He walked down the steps.

"HECTOR!" Andromache joined us on the wall, Astyanax in hand. Her eyes were red, and she was even paler than Priam and Paris. Shortly after her came Helen. They were all here, save Hecuba.

"HECTOR!" Achilles called one last time, and this time the gates opened. Hector strode out, sword at his side, helmet on his head, shield in hand. He was talking to Achilles, but I couldn't hear it, was too deep in the pain to hear anything.

The helmets were gone, and the muted clashing of swords began. They were both good, so good.

_Hector is the best, Hector is the best, Hector is the best. _I chanted over and over in my head, trying to convince myself. They continued to clash, occasionally getting in hits to one and another's armor, but no worse.

Hector tripped over a rock and I didn't breath for a moment, waiting for Achilles' sword to come down on him. Achilles screamed something at him. Hate coursed through my veins. _Bastard!_ I thought. _He's a good man. A good man!_

Hector stood and they started again. Attack, block, block, block, attack, attack… on and on it went, almost never-ending. Attack, block, attack, block, block…

And suddenly, so suddenly I didn't see it happen, Achilles spear was plunged into Hector's heart.

Something deep, deep inside me died.

Hector began gasping for breath, and I didn't even notice I was crying until the tears flowed down my chin. I knew somewhere, somewhere that seemed so far away, a wail went up among the people of Troy, and Andromache fell to the floor. But all I could hear was his gasps, his final struggles for life, The quickened pace of his beating heart pounding in my ears.

Achilles looked at him with a malice I had never seen before, a malice that could consume everything in its path. Then he took his sword and shoved it in his chest.

A moan fought its way up my to my mouth, dying in my throat somewhere.

__

This can not be happening. This is all a horrible, horrible nightmare. Hector can not die. He is Troy's Hector. He is Priam and Hecuba's Hector. He is Paris and Briseis' Hector. He is Andromache and Astyanax's Hector. He is MY Hector. He can not die. He can not die. HE CAN NOT DIE.

On the plain, Hector took his last breath and fell to the ground.

I screamed, a cry of agony and heartache falling from my lips, a dull pain covering every inch of my body. I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, just cried out with the horrible injustice of the scene unfolding beneath me, the terrible agony that was now flooding my being, my soul.

My heart turned to ice as I watched, tears still streaming down my face, Achilles tie a loop around Hector's ankles, and then to his chariot.

__

He wouldn't… No… He couldn't…

But he did. He went to his chariot and took off, Hector trailing behind him.

I ran.

- - - - - -

I didn't plan to go anywhere, didn't try to run somewhere in particular. I ran, trying to erase the images now flooding my mind.

Hector protecting me from my father. Hector telling me he loved me. Hector joking with me. Hector introducing me to Andromache. Hector talking to me. Hector scolding Paris. Hector protecting Paris. Hector brushing his horse.

Hector smiling.

I collapsed, sobbing.

Hector would never smile at me again.

I tried to fight the tears and stand, taking in my surroundings as I went. It was then I realized I had run straight into the stables.

I fell to the floor again, sobbing harder.

A new wave of memories flooded my mind, causing my entire body to shake.

Hector facing Achilles. Hector fighting. Hector tripping. Hector struggling to stand. Hector lunging toward Achilles. Hector gasping with breath, blood flowing from his mouth and wounds. Hector being dragged behind Achilles' chariot.

The images burned themselves in my brain, refusing to leave, causing me so much agony I couldn't even open my eyes.

"You should've taken me!" I screamed. "He didn't deserve this! He could never deserve this!" My words faded off into the air as I began to cry again, my pain consuming me.

I could hardly hear the footsteps running into the stables, could barely feel the arms wrap themselves around me. Tears not my own fell on the back of my neck.

Paris and I cried together, for the brother we would never see again, for the most wonderful person either of us had ever known, who was now being paraded around the Greek camps like a trophy. We cried for the friend we had lost, for the goodness that could never be replaced, could never be redone. We cried knowing that there would never be another Hector, and there would never be another who came close.

Eventually we could cry no more. When all the tears were gone, when nothing more was left, we both stood. I couldn't be in the stable anymore. I knew I wouldn't ever go there again, not for anything in the world. It was Hector's place, his sanctuary.

I could hear Paris leaving, going in the opposite direction that I would leave.

__

"You have to promise me you'll never lose the will to live, that you'll always live life to the fullest. It's too short."

Hector was right- life was too short. If a person like him could die, someone filled with live and love and happiness, then anyone could.

I turned.

"Paris, wait."

He turned, staring at me, his face puffy and red, yet still as beautiful as ever.

"I love you." I said quietly. "I never…" I choked, fighting to say what I have to say as the tears threatened to come again. "I never told him that. I don't want to do that again."

Paris strode over to me, placing a lingering kiss on my forehead. "He knew, Charis. He always knew." Then he left. I went in the other direction, turning to go back to my room.

- - - - - - -

Thank you, Hector. Because of you, I am safe. Because of you, I lived. Because of you, I am a better person than I ever would have been. I learned more from you than anyone else, and I will never forget anything you taught me. I will never forget you. And I will always love you.

May your soul rest in the Elysian fields, forever in peace.


	10. Athena's Warning

I changed my mind, this is not the last chapter, I split what was originally chapter ten into two different chapters. It just worked better this way. Thank you all for the lovely reviews, I appreciate them deeply.

Notes: In this chapter I will be using the Greek goddess Athena, and making a reference to the myth of the golden apple. For those of you who don't know, the story goes something like this: Eris, the goddess of discord, was not invited to the wedding of Peleus and Thetis (yes, Achilles' parents.) As revenge, she took a golden apple labeled "To the fairest" and hurled it into the crowd. Athena (goddess of wisdom and warfare), Hera (goddess of married women), and Aphrodite (goddess of love and beauty), all saw the apple. They began to fight over it, each saying they were the fairest and should be rewarded the apple. They went to Zeus and asked him to judge it, but he refused (smart guy), so he appointed a mortal instead. That mortal was Paris. Each goddess offered Paris a different gift in return for choosing them the fairest- Athena offered great military victory, Hera offered great wealth, and Aphrodite offered the love of the most beautiful woman in the world. Paris chose Aphrodite, and she gave him the love of Helen, queen of Sparta, neglecting to mention the fact she was already married. Now, not only did this spark the Trojan War, but it also made the other two goddesses EXTREMELY angry with Paris. Even though this wasn't mentioned in the movie, as there weren't any actual gods, I'm going to play off that a little bit.

Also, from what I've read, the gods were known to be fickle, proud, and occasionally just plain mean. So that will come into play as well.

(P.S.- this is just one version of the story- I'm sure there are some that differ slightly, but I just wanted to put in some basic background.)

- - - - - -

I sat in the garden, running my fingers through the fountain's cool waters. Tears dripped down my face and into the water, causing my reflection to blur and the water to ripple. It had been five days since Hector had died, and four days since they had burned his body. Priam had gone to Achilles to recover him, bringing with him gifts of all kinds, to try to bribe the great warrior into returning the body of his beloved son. He had succeeded, and a few hours later had returned with Hector- and Briseis.

I didn't have to ask why Briseis had returned with Priam that night- she told me herself. She begged me for forgiveness, tried to make me see what had happened, how good a person Achilles was. But I could barely look at her, and she left my room in tears.

In truth, I was not really angry with her. In fact, I didn't seem to have any kind of emotion left. Instead, I was filled with a kind of emptiness. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat- I just wandered the palace like a ghost, always carefully avoiding Hector's quarters. My heart went out to Andromache, who could not escape him, trapped in the quarters that had once been his with the son he had adored- constant reminders of Hector's existence. I turned my head, shaking it listlessly, trying to rid myself of thoughts of Hector. I missed him more than words can describe.

"It's better this way, you know." A voice said from the corner of the garden. Anger swelled inside me and I snapped my head to see who was talking.

"Nothing is better without Hector. Who dares to say so?" I hissed, growing angrier when I realized the person was not visible from where I was sitting. "Show yourself." The person moved out of the shadow, and I gasped slightly.

She was unlike any woman I had ever seen. She wore armor that was more beautiful than any armor I had ever seen on a Trojan, or a Greek for that matter. Fine red horsehair spilled from the helmet on her head, and she held a shield. A slightly amused smile played across her lips.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice slightly less commanding than I would've liked it to be. "Are you Greek?" She chuckled.

"I am Athena, goddess of wisdom and warfare. I am no Greek."

I narrowed my eyes. Clearly, this woman was insane, and she was armed. I decided to play along, partially to protect myself, more for the fact that I was curious as to what she had to say. "If you are Athena, why have you come to me? It is told you favor the Greeks."

She smiled again. "Of course I favor the Greeks. You have your fool of a cousin to thank for that."

"Paris?" I did not know how much longer I could tolerate this woman acting as if she were a goddess. Where were the guards? How had she gotten in the palace?

"Yes, Paris." She shook her head, laughing softly. "Hector may have been a Trojan, but he was no fool." Her eyes adopted a wistful look. "I was almost sorry to see him die. Now, _he_ was a prince. He would have chosen correctly."

"Tell me, Athena." I said, quietly, fervently wishing the guards would come find me. "What did you mean by saying that it is better that Hector is dead? Troy is doomed without him."

She laughed again. Her laughter was unnerving. "My dear, Troy was doomed _with_ Prince Hector. Its fate was decided long ago. It is better for him, as well as for you, that he not be here for its destruction."

I stood up, forgetting that this had all been a ruse to encourage her, forgetting that she wasn't right in the head. "How do you know that Troy will fall? And how can his death be better for me?" I whispered.

"I am Athena, dear girl. I know of the end of this war- do not insult me by asking how. And as for you-" she said, beginning to move backwards, "You have not yet known true loss. Prince Hector was only the beginning."

"What?" I asked, bewildered, trying to follow her but finding my feet cemented to the ground. "What does that mean?"

She smiled once more, and it sent chills up my spine. Her smile was horrible, like a wide gash on her face. "You will know soon enough, girl."

I struggled to follow her once more, but my feet were beginning to sink into the ground beneath me. I fought to pull myself free, but nothing happened and I sank further than before. I yelled and screamed, but there was no answer, only the woman's laughing echoing across the garden.

- - - - - - -

I woke with a start, sweating and panting. _It was just a dream, _I soothed myself. _Just a dream. _My fingers were wound tightly around the bed sheets, and I uncurled them and put my face in my hands. The woman still haunted me, her cruel laughter still ringing in my ears, and I wondered if the dream would prove to be true.


	11. The Beginning

Thank you for my lovely reviews! Enjoy this chapter!

- - - - - -

The last days of Achilles' peace passed in a haze of exhaustion. No one, including myself, were sleeping as much as they should have been. Every time I fell asleep, my dreams were haunted by the strange woman and images of Hector's desecrated body.

I did not sleep at all the night before the ending of the peace. I stayed in my room, gazing out at the slowly brightening sky, dreading what would happen to Troy without Hector.

By mid-morning, however, I knew I had to go and see what was happening. I had not heard any sounds of battle, and even though it was possible it could not be heard from where I was, I was becoming curious. If no one was fighting, what had happened? I needed to know, so I left my room and made my way to the wall.

- - - - - -

It was crowded and noisy as people tried to fight their way to the front, eager to glimpse something at the gates. I panicked for a moment, thinking the Greeks were attempting to fight their way in, but realized quickly that this could not be the case. Every face on the wall looked happy and eager, and the noise that filled the air was an excited buzz. Something good had happened, and I needed to find out what.

I pushed my way to the front of the crowd, sidestepping children and old women, and leaned over the edge of the wall to get a closer look.

What I saw there I will never forget.

It was an enormous wooden horse, unlike anything I had ever seen in my life. It was on a pedestal with wheels below it, and large, thick ropes led from the horses mouth to the ground. Soldier held on to these ropes, pulling it into the gates while Priam eagerly conducted its passage from the sidelines. Paris, however, who stood to Priam's right, did not look happy. He watched the horse being led into the city with a mixture of what seemed to be disgust and suspicion.

I ran to him, back through the crowds, down the stairs, and past the horse.

"What is it?" I breathed, tearing my eyes away from it to look at Paris.

"A gift." He said mockingly. "We went to the Greek camps this morning, seems they've all gone- the horse was all that was left. "

"We can't trust it." I said, turning back to the horse and surveying it with newfound distrust. "Burn it."

"Burn it." Paris repeated, laughing bitterly. "That's exactly what I said. Burn it. But Father didn't listen, said it was a gift to the Gods, and the Gods should always be-"

"Honored." I finished for him. I felt hate for the Greeks swell up inside me again- they had found King Priam's biggest weakness- his overzealous love for the Gods.

"If anything happens, I want you out of Troy." he said turning to me. I felt a pang of sadness- since Hector's death he had become more like him than one would have thought possible. Hector had protected me; now Paris was doing the same. They really were similar.

_Similar, _My mind echoed, a sense of foreboding coming over me._ Hector told Priam that fighting that dawn battle would be a bad idea. Priam didn't listen, and look what happened. Now Paris has told him to burn the horse, and again he ignored one of his sons. Will this end in disaster, as well?_

- - - - - - -

Fire.

I thought I dreamed of fire that night, of black smoke filling my rooms and Troy. Flames licked the small huts and wooden homes of the villagers, and their screams filled the city. Greek soldiers ran up and down the alleys and streets, weapons in hand, cutting down people who were attempting to flee from their homes.

I tried to wake myself, to force this nightmare out of my mind.

__

It can not be real, It can not be real. I comforted myself. _It is just a dream._ I pinched my arm to prove to myself that it was nothing more than a horrible nightmare, only to have a sharp pain greet me.

It was then I realized I had been awake all along. Everything was real. The Greeks were in the city. Hector was dead and could not defend it.

Troy was burning.

I almost screamed, but realized that just in time that if I did, someone might hear me. If there were soldiers in the palace, I would be killed, or worse, taken prisoner. I shuddered at the thought of being a slave to some Greek soldier. I had to leave. But where would I go?

__

I remembered Hector's words with a jolt. _"If Troy falls, go find Andromache. She knows a way out. You have to find her."_

I had to find Andromache.

My door burst open and I yelped slightly. It was too late. They were already in the palace. They had found me.

"Charis!" Paris said urgently, grabbing me by the arm. Relief coursed through my body as he pulled me up. "Come on."

He led me through a maze of small chambers and passageways until we were deep in the palace, deeper than I had ever been before. Andromache, Helen, and a few others were there, standing in front of an entranceway to some sort of tunnel.

"Oh thank Zeus, you found her." Andromache breathed, reaching out for me with her free hand, cradling Astyanax in the other. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it, and I smiled at her gratefully. "No luck on Briseis?"

"I'm going back to find her." Paris said firmly. "Go."

Paris pulled out his sword and handed it to a boy I recognized, who went by the name of Aeneas. He said something to him, but I did not hear it, because Andromache pulled me away, away from Paris, who was now speaking in a hushed voice to Helen.

"Don't worry about him." Andromache whispered comfortingly. "He'll be fine. He got you without trouble."

I nodded, knowing she was right. Paris would not die, I could feel it in my heart. I would see him again.

We made our way through the tunnel silently after that, Helen joining us a few moments later. The tunnel was cool and calm, though some echoes of fighting could occasionally be heard above us. Eventually, though, all sound faded and the tunnel was completely quiet.

After a few hours, we reached a river. From here, you could see all of Troy. It now stood in shambles, completely destroyed and falling into ash, courtesy of the Greeks.

My heart seemed to break as I watched my country, the place that I loved with all my heart, crumble into ruin.

__

"You have not yet known true loss. Prince Hector was only the beginning."

Athena had been right. Troy falling was far worse than Hector dying. It was my home. Silent tears streaked down my face.

"Charis, come." said Andromache gently, pulling me in another direction. I noticed that Paris and Briseis had joined the group, and Briseis was sobbing quietly. Paris seemed to have fewer arrows, and it was obvious what happened. I had hated Achilles, and I did not regret his death, but my heart ached for Briseis. I reached out to her, pulling her into a hug, and she returned it, still crying. When Andromache tugged on my hand again I let go, and grabbed Briseis hand instead. Paris had reclaimed his sword, and he went to stand on Andromache's other side, where Astyanax was. Helen was clinging to his hand as well, and we stood in a little line at the front of the group of Trojans we had led out of the city.

Slowly, we made our way away from Troy, away from our homes, to new life and uncertainty.

It was then I realized my lessons of Troy were over.

My lessons in life, however, had just begun.

- - - - - -

Okay, so, that's it!

Hope you liked it, and I'm going to take this time to say my thank-yous!

Here goes.

Thank you to:

Roxy's Pet, DatP, Chris Rorin, terluttorsec, lileskimochica, Adania, DoReMi, Firien Inuyasha, Xtreme SeaGazer, topher is my grace, NeonSharpie, Caryn, Amanda14, Lady Discord, Eamane Sparrow, PfizerGuy/Pfizer Fan, Christina, Christina 24, and Donna Lynn.

Special thanks go to:

Queen Arwen, Morticia Black Rose (ArtsyGirl500), for leaving such a steady stream of reviews, and Poppy2, for helping me with my writing and out of a few writers blocks.

Thank you for reading!

Love,

Sector


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